Double Entendre
by JamesLuver
Summary: Modern AU. If Anna had been told three years ago that the week of her sister's wedding would change her own life for good, she probably would have wondered what on earth they had been smoking. She had longed for more, it was true, but she would certainly not have believed that such a clichéd scenario would have brought her together with the man that she was in love with.
1. I

**A/N:** Happy Birthday, Kate!

So I have already tried my hand at two fanfic tropes: Coffeeshop AU and Flowershop AU. I could not resist the idea of writing a Fake!Dating AU and a Bed Sharing AU, so I thought I would combine them both here because these two prompts were in the same set. This fic is based on: _we're on a roadtrip with some friends and we have to share a hotel room and there's only one bed and a whole lot of sexual tension au_ and _y_ _ou're pretending to be my significant other so my mum gets off my case only she's assuming we're going to be sleeping in the same bed together oh dear' au_ (the second prompt is worked into the second part of this oneshot).

I do apologise that it's another long fic. My next one won't be.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Double Entendre_

 _April 2019_

It was a beautiful afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The sun shone. For a Friday in April, the weather was mild. The weather was reflecting her mood in every way.

Anna met Robert Crawley at the door. He gave her a soft smile, a smile that was unlike his usually cheerful and laidback demeanour.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

She had never been more ready for anything, she thought, but she just nodded.

"It's not too late to back away if you want to," said Robert.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away today," she said.

He smiled at her again. "I thought as much. But it's my job to check. Even if the idiot is my best mate."

She tightened her hold on her bouquet of flowers. "I know. Thank you."

He cleared his throat, offering his arm to her. "You're welcome. Now, I do believe we have an appointment to keep."

Together, they turned and entered the building before them. The cool air was heaven on her skin, and she took a deep breath. This was it. The moment she had been longing for for so long. She allowed Robert to guide her further inside.

And then there he was. Standing at the bottom of the short aisle, his face alight with wonder and joy. She couldn't help but beam in return. It was hard to look away from him, but she did so briefly, at the small crowd crammed into the first couple of pews. Mrs. Hughes, dabbing at her eyes, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, who looked fit to burst, the rest of the Crawley family beaming with pride. And her own mum and sister and brother-in-law. Her mum had tears streaming down her face. Cat grinned, pointing at herself and then giving her a thumbs-up. Anna had to swallow a snort. Only Cat would be arrogant enough to take the credit for her big day. Although, she had to concede, in many ways she might be right…

If Anna had been told three years ago that the week of her sister's wedding would change her own life for good, she probably would have wondered what on earth they had been smoking. She had longed for more, it was true, but she would certainly not have believed that such a clichéd scenario would have brought her together with the man that she was in love with.

But, she acknowledged as she reached the bottom of the aisle and John's hand slipped into hers, under these circumstances, she didn't mind being proved wrong.

* * *

 _March 2016_

The sound of the letterbox clattering roused Anna from her sleep. It was as sharp as a whip, slicing through her light slumber. Groaning, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, scrabbling to check the time on her phone. It was gone ten. She'd managed a decent lie in on this Saturday morning.

She pushed her feet into her slippers and shucked on her dressing gown, shuffling into the hallway for the pile of mail that had arrived. She picked it up and made her way into the little kitchen, filling the kettle and sitting herself down at the table while she waited for it to boil. There was a bill for her credit card, a leaflet advertising Greasy Joe's, a new takeaway in the area that sounded mildly like some kind of seedy sex shop for men in Anna's opinion, a reminder that her car insurance was coming up for renewal…and a thick, important cream envelope. Her addressed was typed in a flourishing calligraphy. On closer inspection, she realised that it had been posted from France.

That cleared the mystery up. She knew exactly what it was.

Pushing the other letters to one side, she peeled it open and pulled out the contents. She was greeted by a handsome sheet of white card with flowers drawn in some kind of fancy gold pen trailing all the way down the sides like the delicate blooms that always seemed to be found on the sides of quaint cottages. She took in the words.

 _Mrs. Smith and Mr. and Mrs. Dubois request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their children Catherine Elizabeth Smith and Timeo Federico Dubois on Sunday 14_ _th_ _August 2016, 15:30, at the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, France, followed by a reception at the same venue. Please send your response by Friday 6_ _th_ _May 2016._

Anna grinned, a warm feeling spreading across her chest. There it was, on paper for everyone to see. Her little sister was getting married in just a few months. Since it was gone ten o'clock in the UK, she felt that it was a safe bet that Cat would be up and about in France with the one hour time difference. She picked up her mobile and hit the FaceTime option.

After a few moments, her sister's face materialised in front of her. "Bonjour, ma sœur," she said cheerfully. It appeared that she was sitting outside on her balcony; Anna could hear the distant sounds of traffic rumbling below. Lucky beggar, she thought enviously.

"Look what just arrived," she said, holding up the invitation for her to see.

Cat squealed, her whole face lighting up. "Fantastic! You'd better not be ringing me to tell me that you're not coming."

Anna scoffed. "As if I'd miss it for the world. Besides, Mum would probably kill me if I dared to even think about not getting the time off work."

"Good old Mum," Cat said affectionately. "And don't forget, you'll have to get here at least a week before the wedding so we can have your dress fitting."

That was part of the problem with having a sister who lived in another country entirely; it had made it impossible for her to join in any of the wedding plans. She had been forced to hear all of them second had, had seen the bridesmaid gowns only through the phone's screen. She couldn't help her to pick flowers or to organise the venue, or sort out the hen party. She knew that Cat had a group of friends who were probably relishing getting stuck in to such an event, but she sometimes wished that she could be there to join in.

Although, in reality, it was probably a good thing that she wasn't. It would only make her dream of the kind of wedding day that _she_ would like.

And of the man she would like to marry.

Putting that particular thought to the back of her mind, she asked, "How is Mum, anyway?"

Cat pulled a face. "Oh, she's in her element. I think she fancies herself as a bit of a wedding planner. She's already had a disagreement with Tim's mum about several things, never mind the fact that it's our day. But you know what Tim is like. He'd rather bury his head in the sand when his mum gets going, and she's never had an opponent like Mum before."

Anna snorted. She could well imagine. Their mum had always been a perfectionist. Controlling was a bit of an unfair description, but she certainly liked things just so; Anna could remember the arguments that had erupted when Cat had announced that she wanted to have her belly button pierced, and she had almost had a heart attack when she had discovered that Cat had had a poorly administered tattoo done when she'd been drunk on her eighteenth. _That_ had seen the same row for a solid week. Anna suspected that her mum had never quite got over the shock of it; every time she saw the tattoo now, a cover of butterflies and birds that went all the way down her left bicep, she looked as if she had been personally affronted. Cat had confided once that she thought Mum would probably kill herself if she ever found out that she'd had a second one done from her side all the way down to the top of her thigh. Anna was inclined to agree.

Still, it was nice that Mum had something to throw herself into enthusiastically. And now that she too lived in France, it gave her less time to try and interfere in Anna's own affairs.

Their little family hadn't always been divided by a country. They had all lived quite happily here in Yorkshire until Anna had been twenty-one, when her dad had died in a freak accident at work. It had knocked the stuffing out of the Smith residence. Her dad had been the life and soul, and she had always been a bit of a daddy's girl. Losing him so young, so unexpectedly, had been hard to get over.

It had completely broken their mum. She had wandered round like a lost soul, unable to piece her life back together. Cat had just moved down to Bristol for university, and Anna had just finished her studies, so the majority of the weight had fallen onto her shoulders, though in fairness to her sister, she had come back home to support whenever she could.

Cat had spent the second year of her degree abroad, studying French in the native country, and once she had finished her degree, she decided to move over there full-time. Their mum had been devastated at first but, when she had visited her, had fallen in love with the place in turn. Just like that, she had decided that she too wanted a change of scenery, and she had packed her bags and moved to the same city as her youngest daughter. Anna had opted to stay behind in Yorkshire. She was attached to her home county, had made all of her friends there, had not wished to leave her boyfriend of the time, and enjoyed her work. She saw her mum and sister twice a year now, once in the summer, and for a week over Christmas. They took it in turns to travel, though since Cat had started dating Tim, she had started to go to his parents' for the Christmas that their mum came to Anna.

"Did you like your dress code, anyway?" Cat smirked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Anna frowned. "Dress code? I know what I'm wearing, silly beggar. I _have_ seen pictures of the bridesmaids' dresses, even if I haven't tried one on yet."

"No, I didn't mean that," she drawled. "You've got a special one all of your own. Check the back of your invite."

Confused, Anna turned it over. There was writing there, scrawled in her sister's fair hand.

 _Dress code: a hot man on your arm._

Anna blinked. "What?"

Cat sighed impatiently. "You're going to have a date for this wedding, Anna. It's my day and I say so."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"If you say so. It doesn't change the facts. Your plus one is going to be a good looking guy. Tim's putting a list together of all his single friends just for the occasion."

"Nice try. You know very well that my plus one is going to be Mary."

"I thought you might say that. So I've worked around it."

"Eh?"

Cat picked a piece of lint from her dress lazily. "I've already sent Mary an invite of her own."

"But…you don't even _like_ Mary that much!"

"Proof of how determined I am that you're going to have some fit bloke strutting about after you. Tim's friend Pierre really wouldn't be a bad choice. He's gorgeous."

"I bet Tim loves hearing you say that."

Cat waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, he knows I'm just doing a bit of harmless window shopping. He's more your type than mine."

"You have no idea what my type is, thank you very much."

"Only because you haven't been on a date in so bloody long. Seriously, when was the last time?"

Anna wasn't falling in to that trap. "None of your business."

"Which is your way of saying 'a very long time ago'. So you are going to spend the whole time getting to know some fine Frenchman."

Anna's heart started to beat faster. No, that was far from what she wanted to happen. Not least because she wasn't interested in some Frenchman called Pierre. She was very much interested in some English-cum-Irish-via-Scotland-man called John.

John Bates, who also happened to be her best friend as well as her love interest, though if Mary knew that she considered John her best friend, she probably wouldn't live to see another day.

Oblivious, Cat was still chatting. "Hey, what if you actually ended up falling for a Frenchman too? That would be so cool! You could come and live over here with us and then we'd all be together again! Maybe you should do a Cilla Black's Blind Date type of thing so you can select the one you think you'll have the most fun with…"

Anna knew that now was the best time to stop Cat before she got into full flow. She was like a whirlwind otherwise.

"I've told you: I'm _not_ spending the week with some man I've never even met before."

"We both know who's going to win in a battle of wills, Anna, so you might as well give it up now."

Before she could stop to think about what she was saying, Anna blurted, "I already have a boyfriend, so if I must be seen with a man, _he's_ the one I'm going to be seen with."

Completely stupefied silence followed her statement. Oh, God. This was never going to end well…

Cat snorted. "Yeah, right. Try pulling the other one."

Well, there was nothing for it now but to continue this stupid line. "It's true!" Anna insisted.

"All right, then, how long have you been seeing him?"

"A few months," she replied promptly.

"So you were seeing him before Christmas?"

"Yes," she said, praying that her confidence wouldn't falter.

"And it never occurred to you that Mum and I might like to know about it?"

"Well, it was still early days," she muttered. "We got together at the end of October."

"What's his name?"

Lord help her, she thought. "John. John Bates."

"And where did you meet him?"

"We work together. I've known him for a couple of years."

"And you've never mentioned him in all that time?"

"I have!" Anna said defensively. "You just probably weren't listening."

"All right, keep your hair on." Cat eyed her shrewdly. "And this is definitely the truth?"

" _Yes_ ," she said in agitation.

"All right, I believe you. You can bring him to the wedding. And he'd better be there. I don't want to hear any tales of a mysterious break up only a few days before you're due here. Otherwise you won't be escaping from Pierre."

"Duly noted," said Anna, feeling the apprehension rising up within her.

"Excellent," said Cat. "Well, I've got to dash. Tim and I are going out. Make sure you and Johnny book yourselves some passage over. I expect Mum will want you to stay with her for a week before we go to the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild."

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth.

"See you soon, sis. Tell your Johnny that I'm looking forward to meeting him. I've got a lot of questions to ask him."

Before Anna could say another word, the call ended. She sighed, throwing her phone moodily to one side. That couldn't have gone worse.

And now she somehow had to convince John Bates to play the role of her boyfriend in just a few months' time.

* * *

The thought of the lie that she'd started to weave kept her worrying for the rest of the weekend. Several times, she found herself halfway to phoning her sister before she balked. Cat would be merciless, and she really didn't fancy spending a whole ten days being groped by a stranger. She wasn't sure what John's reaction would be when she asked him, but he had always been comfortingly reliable. She doubted he would let her be humiliated if push came to shove.

And, really, how hard would it be? It wasn't as if they'd have to do anything remotely romantic. They wouldn't be sharing a bed at her mum's. Anna had vivid memories of the way that she had policed the times that Cat's ex-boyfriends had stayed over in the past. It wasn't as if they would have to study things about each other. John knew everything there was to know about her, and she liked to think that she knew a lot about him, so they could hardly be caught off-guard with any difficult questions. And there wouldn't be a need to do too much acting. John treated her with respect in a way that she had never known from another man, and that was satisfy her mum. As for the lovey-dovey aspect…she was quite sure that they could get away with doing nothing more incriminating than holding hands if they absolutely had to. Her mum wouldn't want to see them kissing, and while the thought made her stomach flutter pleasantly, as if there was a thousand live butterflies dancing around in there, it wasn't something that was _necessary_.

It bolstered her slightly. Yes, this was a mad position to be in, but she had faith in John. He wouldn't let her down. They had months to plan for this. Nothing would go wrong.

* * *

"You did _what_!?"

Anna shifted uncomfortably in her chair, passing a napkin over to Mary. Her friend was currently mopping at her chin. She had just spit out the mouthful of liquid that she had been taking in when Anna had revealed the conversation she had had with her sister.

"I said that I already had a boyfriend," she repeated, "and I told her that he was called John."

"John," Mary repeated. "As in, John Bates? Good _God_ , Anna." And she descended into a fit of giggles.

Anna glowered at her. "Stop laughing. It's not funny."

"Oh, come on, it is a bit. John Bates? Of all the men you know, _his_ name was the first one that popped into your head?"

"I panicked," Anna said. She was not about to admit that his name had been the first to pop into her head because she fancied him. That would make her life hell.

"I'll say," said Mary dryly. "Why didn't you say Jimmy? He'd've been up for it."

Anna pulled a face. "Jimmy? Really? I'm at least four years older than him."

"So? Loads of women have toy boys. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yes, but I suspect that Jimmy sees me as more matronly than anything else. I'm always having to pull him up about something."

"He might find you matronly, but I highly doubt he'd turn down the opportunity to spend nearly two weeks pretending to be your plaything. He looks like the kind of boy that would go for a cougar. I bet he'd ask you to spank him."

"Eww, _gross_!" said Anna, scandalised. "I'm regretting telling you any of this now."

"I'd've found out in August. I got an invite too, remember?"

"Don't be too flattered. It was only to thwart me bringing you as my plus one."

"Oh, well." Mary's face fell slightly at that, and Anna felt a stab of grim satisfaction. There, served her right. Clearly with an effort, her friend pulled herself together. "Well, what did John say?"

"I haven't asked him yet," said Anna. "That's next on my list of things to do. But I'm hoping he'll say yes."

"Well, I think he will. Although you never know with John. He seems to thrive on being morbid and brooding." A frown creased Mary's brow.

"Well, I can't say I'd blame him if he said no. It's not like it's a normal situation. But I've always been able to depend on him before, whatever you might say about him being brooding."

"True," Mary conceded. "And let's face it, he'd be off his rocker not to accept. It's not like he ever gets an offer to spend two weeks pretending to be the boyfriend of a beautiful girl."

Anna had just started to blush at the assessment when she heard a voice behind her ask, "Who never gets an offer to spend two weeks pretending to be the boyfriend of a beautiful girl?"

John.

Shit.

Mary started with over-exaggerated surprise. "John! We didn't see you there! Pull up a pew!"

Anna turned just enough to meet his eye.

"Hi, John," she mumbled.

"Hello," he returned, setting his polystyrene cup of coffee down on the table top and pulling out the seat beside her, hooking his cane over the chair's arm as was customary.

"You're late," Mary said brightly. "You're usually here long before I am."

"I stopped off at the coffee shop for something to drink before I arrived," he said, indicating the takeaway cup in front of him. "I couldn't take more of those awful sachets for a day longer."

"We've got to save money, John," Mary said breezily. "I'm sure Papa has been telling you this until he's blue in the face."

"Yes, but those basic sachets are an insult to everything we do here," said John, lifting his cup and taking a long swig. "Anyway, who were you talking about before I arrived?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," said Mary, smirking. "You men are always saying that gossiping is a woman's vice, so you can jolly well keep your nose out of it."

"I've never said that," John said mildly. "I liked being informed of the office gossip. Anna and I have had many an entertaining hour wondering about Thomas' love life and Mr. Carson's Cheerful Charlies gig."

Anna disappeared behind her cup of horrible coffee as Mary shot her a look. "Oh, Anna shares all this with you, does she? It looks like I'd better be careful what I say if I don't want it getting back to you."

"No, that's quite different," said John cheerfully. "I've known you since you were knee height. The less I know about your private life, the better."

Mary harrumphed, shooting her a sideways glance. "Well, if you want to know what we were just talking about, the funniest thing happened to Anna over the weekend—"

"Aren't you expected somewhere?" Anna interjected.

"No," said Mary.

"Well then, can you give us a minute? I want to talk to John alone."

She knew that Mary was trying to come up with an excuse to stay, but she clearly couldn't find one. Muttering, "Spoilsport," under her breath, she rose and trudged away with all the surliness of a child being denied the most wondrous of treats. John blinked at her retreating back.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

She sighed. "I'm afraid I know."

John cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "What did she mean, that you'd had something funny happen to you over the weekend?"

This was it. Anna took a deep breath. "You know that my sister is getting married this year?"

He nodded. "You've mentioned it. Somewhere in France, yes?"

"Yes, the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, on the French Riviera. Anyway, I received my official invitation at the weekend."

"Well, that's lovely," he said. "I'm not sure where this is going to turn into a funny story."

"It doesn't," she said miserably. "A mortifying one, really. But Mary thinks it's funny."

"So what happened?" he asked, frowning.

Anna wet her dry lips. "Well, she, um…she insisted that I spend the time with a man."

For the second time that morning, she watched someone choke on their drink. She reached out and slapped John hard on the back as he spluttered. It was almost a full minute before he recovered.

"She, um, said that, did she?" he croaked when he had re-found his faculties.

"Cat's idea of a joke," Anna said grimly. "She loves to see me squirm, and she thinks that I've spent quite enough time alone."

"And is that how you feel?" he prompted tentatively. "I mean, I've known you for two years now, and you've never…"

He tailed off, as if he wasn't quite sure that he should finish the thought. Not that he needed to; Anna was well aware of what he was going to say. That she hadn't had a boyfriend as long as he'd known her. That she hadn't even had a date as far as he knew. Which was a little inaccurate: she'd had a couple of dates, a few months after they'd first been introduced, but she'd already started to fancy him and it hadn't felt right, going out to dinner with another man when he wasn't the one she wanted. Wasn't fair to any party involved. It had been so insignificant and short-lived that she hadn't bothered to tell him, and she didn't fancy going into the details right now.

"There was no one who felt right," she said quickly, hoping that would encompass more than she desired to say. "And I've always handled being on my own better than Cat has."

"So what happened?" John asked.

"Well, she told me that she was already lining up a selection of men for me to meet," she said. "And obviously I really didn't want that. So I sort of…told her I already had a boyfriend."

John snorted. "I bet that went down well."

"It could have been worse. Believe me, it'll be a thousand times harder when Mum finds out. Which will be any day now because Cat has never been able to keep a juicy secret to herself." It was how Mum had prematurely found out about her first boyfriend; Cat had come across them kissing outside the school gates, and had rushed home to tell her. That had been one of the most uncomfortable evenings of her life. She dreaded what it would be like when her mum realised that she had been 'dating' someone at Christmas and had never been told a thing.

"She believed you, then?" said John as he fished a chocolate biscuit from the open packet left on the table in front of them.

Anna nodded. "I managed to convince her. The only problem is, he'll be expected at the wedding now."

"Break up with him before you get there," John suggested. "I've seen some of your acting talents when you've foiled Thomas and Sarah's scheming. You could win an Oscar. Acting the part of the heartbroken, jilted girlfriend should be no problem for you."

"Apart from the fact that there's a big one," she said. "Cat's already thwarted me in that respect. Says that she expects him to be there or she'll set the Frenchmen on me."

"Why don't you just tell her that you're not interested?"

"Easier said than done. She's like a dog with a bone. She might be in a different country, but she likes to be a pain in the side."

"So what are you going to do?"

"The only thing I can. Take a man with me."

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard," he said encouragingly. "You're kind, and funny, and caring, and generous…and you're beautiful too. Any man alive would be blessed to call you their girlfriend. And I'm certain that once you start looking, you'll find the queue outside the door."

He cleared his throat when he'd finished, as if he'd said too much for his stoic nature to allow, but Anna's heart leapt. He thought her beautiful. He'd never said that before. Oh, she'd hoped that he might, had read a thousand different things in his eyes over the course of their friendship, but she had never been certain enough to risk taking a leap. Perhaps…perhaps this could be the start of it…

"I can only take one person with me," she said.

He chuckled. "Well, I was hardly expecting you to take a harem across the continent."

"No, you misunderstand me. When she asked me, I panicked and gave her the name of someone I know. He's the only person that I can take with me."

"Right," said John, looking a little nonplussed. "So go and ask him, then."

Anna took a deep breath. "I am."

It seemed to take several seconds for her words to register. But when Anna stared unblinkingly at him waiting for the penny to drop, realisation dawned across the part of his face that she could see…and he promptly choked on his second mouthful of coffee.

She was going to start banning people from drinking when she was talking to them, she thought resentfully as she slapped him on the back again.

John's eyes watered as he said, "You…you can't mean…?"

"You," Anna confirmed. "Yes, that's right. Your name was the first that popped into my head, so I told her that I was dating you."

"Christ," he said. "What on earth possessed you?"

"I told you, I completely panicked. You'll help me, won't you?"

"How can I do that? Everyone here is going to suspect something. You know what they're like. The moment they get the merest whiff of gossip, they're like bloodhounds. It'll be all round the company in two seconds flat."

"You hardly have to tell them that you're going away with me."

"Won't need to, will I? There will be pictures plastered all over Mary's Instagram in seconds. You know how she loves social media."

Anna pursed her lips. That was true. She'd never thought of that, and she could hardly police every photo put online by other people at the wedding. He was bound to be caught, even if it was only in the background.

"Then I'd have to say that you were doing me a favour," she said slowly. "Or I could just say that I invited you to keep me company. It's not like no one knows that we're friends."

"People won't want to believe that," he said. "The potential other gossip is much juicier. But I don't want them to say those things about you. About _us_. I don't want people looking at you and whispering, wondering what you're doing dating someone like me. Fake or not, you know that's what people would say."

"I don't give a fig what people say," she retorted fiercely. "And they're all idiots if they think that. I know you like to think that you're a lost cause, but any woman would be lucky to call _you_ their boyfriend. You've got all the qualities we love."

"And here was me thinking all you really wanted was a bloke with a bad boy streak."

"That's boring. I don't want to spend my life chasing around after someone. I want someone romantic who wants to bring me flowers and read me poetry and spend their time with me…hey, stop laughing!"

"I'm not," said John, but there was a funny look on his face nevertheless.

She sighed. "Look, please, John. Please do this for me. You know I would never ask you under ordinary circumstances, but you're the only one I know who can help me."

"Anna, I would love to help. You know I would. But I'm not sure that you've thought this through."

"If your only problem is people at work talking…" she argued.

"It's not. I'm concerned about what your mum will say. Not for myself, that doesn't matter. But for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He gestured himself. "Well, look. I'm hardly boyfriend material. I'm fifteen years older than you, I've already had one disaster of a marriage, and I'm sure that the last person your mum is expecting to see walk through those doors in August is a man like me. I don't want it to cause a rift between you."

"Mum's got to accept my choice of life partner one day."

"But that's not going to be me, is it?"

The ringing sense of finality in John's voice made her shrink back in her seat, at a loss for words. He didn't see them as a potential couple. She was a friend to him, nothing more. She'd always thought that somewhere, deep down, there might be a chance, but that was one fatal blow that she didn't think she could recover from. Tears sprang unbidden, and she blinked furiously. She couldn't let him see her cry—

"Oh, please don't cry," he said, alarmed; she realised that he must have misinterpreted her tears. He reached out and enclosed her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. "Look, if it means that much to you, of _course_ I'll help you. I just want to make sure that you've fully considered all of the ramifications of this."

"They're for me to deal with, not you," she said. Even feeling the warm weight of his hand against hers could do nothing to assuage the hard ball that had knotted itself in her stomach. She pulled her hand away and stood. Right now, she needed some distance. But she couldn't appear rude, either. So she muttered a thank you and made up an excuse about needing to get into the office to carry on with her latest project.

"Of course," said John, a light frown on his face. "I'll see you later?"

She nodded, then turned to go. She could feel his eyes burning into her all the way across the staffroom, but she did not look back.

 _It's never going to be me, is it?_

He had agreed to her plan. But, she thought miserably, it couldn't have happened in a more disheartening fashion.

* * *

Anna had thought that time might go slow, but it seemed to go by at an alarming pace. April, May, June, July…all raced by in the blink of an eye.

In that time, she and John spoke little of the favour that she had asked of him. It seemed to her that he was trying to forget about it. The nearest they got to discussing it was the day that John told her that he had been granted the leave he had asked for, but he had commented no further than that, and she had been too cowardly to engage him. If anyone else mentioned Cat's wedding in his presence, he swiftly changed the subject. Sometimes, Anna wondered just how they were going to make this work if he was so determined to pretend that it didn't exist.

But he hadn't backed out on her. That was the most reassuring thing she could find to say about it. And, really, it hadn't changed the way that they always were together. They still laughed and joked, still spent time together out of work.

Anna still had the butterflies in her stomach whenever he looked at her that certain way, still felt that there was something that she wasn't quite grasping, like a word in a foreign language that would aid a difficult translation.

She just hoped that the wedding wouldn't place too much strain on a good quality friendship.

* * *

 _August 2016_

"Are you all packed?" Anna asked him the week before they were due to fly out.

John grimaced. "Nearly. I thought I'd start early so I know I won't forget anything." He lowered his voice, glancing around. "Is there anything that I should know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your mum and sister are probably going to interrogate me. Have you told them anything in the last few months that I ought to know?"

She shook her head. "No, I thought it best to keep it simple. I've told her everything she wanted to know about our friendship, but with the added implication of it being a _relationship_."

"Right," he said, looking queasy. "Well, at least I won't be caught out."

He was nervous. She couldn't blame him, really. After all, they were hardly conventional circumstances to be meeting her family under. She could put herself in his shoes. If that was her, she'd be _terrified_.

Before she could say anything else to reassure him, they were interrupted by Mary, who threw herself down into the seat beside them as if she was an actress performing her swansong scene on stage. Overdramatic didn't even begin to cover it, and Anna found herself hiding a smile behind her hand.

"What's wrong?" asked John. She noticed that he had to busy himself with sugaring his drink to mask a grin of his own.

"Everything is a disaster!" Mary groaned.

"Has something gone wrong with the Anstruther deal?" asked Anna, suddenly concerned. They had been toing and froing with that for weeks; if it fell through now, at the final hurdle…

But Mary shook her head. "No, it's worse than that."

Worse? Anna frowned, racking her brains for what else could have possibly gone horrifically wrong.

"Well, spill the beans," John said impatiently. "If it's something to do with the business, we'll need to know as soon as possible so we can try to put it right."

"It's nothing to do with the business. It's your sister's wedding, Anna."

Anna had a sudden, horrible vision that her mum and sister had found out that she'd been lying to them about John all along. Or could it have been called off? No, that was silly. She'd have heard something from them herself.

"Come on, stop keeping us in the dark," she said.

For a moment, Mary seemed to wrestle with herself. And then it all came pouring out.

"My life is over! I have reached the most shameful stage in my life. I'm taking my _papa_ as a plus one to your sister's wedding!"

Anna certainly hadn't been expecting _that_. "Is that really so bad?"

Mary groaned. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Why are you taking him, then?" asked John. "If it's causing you so much pain, why ask him at all?"

"Because there's no one else!" she cried. "Matthew was _supposed_ to be coming with me, but he's got called into the office on an urgent case and he can't get away."

"Well, what about your mama?" Anna suggested.

"Flying out to America tonight. Grandmama is ill, and she wants to be there with her. Not that there's anything really wrong. She's as dramatic as if she was an actress on Broadway."

Probably where Mary got her flair for the dramatics from too, Anna thought, but did not dare voice it.

"I can't take Granny," Mary continued without prompting, "because while the fact that it's such a high end establishment would be right up her street, the fact that it's in France is an absolute no-no. She hates anything foreign. She won't leave the country these days."

"And your sisters?" said John.

"Sybil's on some tour round Ireland with this new friend of hers, Tom Branson. And I can't even stomach the _thought_ of being trapped with Edith, never mind it actually being a reality. I'd have killed her by the end of it, and I'd rather not have to go to prison."

Which was rather uncharitable to Edith, Anna thought. She was very different to Mary, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"So, you see, Papa really is my only option. And he's insufferable already. We weren't supposed to be arriving until the night before the wedding, but he's insisting that we fly out with you so that he can play the tourist for a week. Mind you, it'll be nice for you, John. You can be boring old men together."

John recoiled.

"That's enough, Mary," Anna said sharply. "John isn't old or boring. Don't be nasty just because things aren't going your way. Besides, you won't be seeing anything of us before the wedding. We'll be with my family."

Mary looked very much like she wanted to argue, but Anna glowered at her. It was probably things like that that made John shy away from any tiny thought in his head that might connect him to her. He had been crippled by self-loathing and self-doubts more than his actual leg during his time working here with them, and comments like that would never help him. Or _them_.

Sensing that she wasn't going to get any more sympathy, Mary stood.

"Anyway, I've things to do," she said, more coolly than she would usually. "I'll see you later."

Anna grunted in reply.

"You didn't need to say that," said John when she'd gone.

"Yes, I did," she said forcefully. "She thinks she's untouchable, and normally she is, but it doesn't give her the right to say those things to people who haven't done anything to her."

"She has a point."

"No, she doesn't," Anna said stubbornly. " _I_ don't think you're old or boring, not in the slightest. And my opinion counts for more because I think the world of you, so there."

He blinked. "You…think the world of me?"

"Of course I do," she replied, determined not to meet his eye. She could feel her cheeks heating, knew she had said more than was strictly sensible, but she couldn't have him thinking himself unworthy. And if a seed so happened to be planted…

"Right, well, that's nice to hear," he said lightly. "Now, um, should we get going? We've got that meeting with Mr. Carson soon."

"Yes," she said, finishing off her lunch.

And though the meeting was dull, Anna couldn't help but notice one thing, something that she just about dared to credit herself with:

John didn't stop smiling throughout.

* * *

And then, out of nowhere, it was time to go. Robert had insisted on making the travel arrangements, fancying himself a bit of a connoisseur, and Anna was happy to let him. They would be flying late at night after work from Leeds-Bradford to Paris. Once there, they would spend a night in a hotel so that she and John weren't descending on her family in the early hours. Robert and Mary would be staying too. They would split the following morning, for Robert had mapped out places that he wanted to visit on their journey to the Riviera. He seemed to think that he was going on a hitch-hiking adventure.

It all sounded simple enough. Anna just hoped that it all went smoothly, because she was quite sure her shot nerves wouldn't be able to take it otherwise. The depth of her lies kept looming up in front of her, and she'd started having nightmares about them; she'd woken in a sweat every day that week with a different scenario of how she might be found out. She hated lying, and the guilt was gnawing at her.

But it was for a good cause, she told herself as bracingly as she could. It was a one-off, just to keep her family's exuberance at bay. There was no harm in that, was there? And, really, it _was_ a perfect excuse to spend some quality time with John. Maybe, just maybe, she could probe a little, see if he could have feelings for her somewhere in there…

It did little to settle her stomach, but she soldiered on like a weathered warrior.

* * *

"Anna? Anna, wake up. We're landing in about five minutes."

John's voice was low and soothing in her ear, and she stirred, blinking groggily as she came back to her surroundings. They were on the late flight out to Paris, and their charade was about to begin. John looked green and ghostly in the faint plane lights, but he managed a smile for her benefit.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she said, pushing her hair away from her face.

He chuckled. "It's quite all right. I thought I'd bored you with my talk on this book, so I don't blame you."

"You could never bore me," she said. "It's just…well, I haven't had much sleep over the last few days, and today has been so busy, I must have just completely wiped out."

"I was only joking," he reassured her. "I know the feeling. I'll be glad to get into bed tonight. I just can't sleep on planes. Not enough leg room."

He _did_ look rather odd, squashed into his seat as he was. He was a big man. She probably should have taken over the booking from Robert. He was a man, and he wasn't likely to give much thought to extra leg room seats. But he had been so eager to please, and she had hated to interfere…

At last, the plane landed on the runway with a slight bump. It was several more minutes before the pilot announced that they could disembark. All at once, there was a scuffling as people rose from their seats and collected their hand luggage. John pulled out hers and handed it to her, shouldering his own. He grasped his cane tight in the other hand and led her down into the arrivals' lounge. Mary and Robert were already waiting for them; they had been seated a little further back on the plane. After grabbing their luggage from the conveyor, they moved towards the airport's exit, bursting out into the clear, warm air. A row of taxis was already waiting. They joined the back of the queue of tourists who were waiting to take one, and eventually reached the front. Anna and Mary slipped into the backseat while the men loaded the luggage into the boot. Then Robert moved to take the front passenger seat, leaving John to squeeze himself into the back. Anna had taken the middle seat, being the smallest out of all three of them, and she thrilled at the sensation of John being squashed in so tightly beside her. His large bulk was a huge comfort. Robert rattled off the hotel's address, and they set off.

Thankfully the hotel wasn't too far away, and soon they were all piling into the front doors, blinking in the bright lights. A bored looking woman sat behind the reception desk. She straightened up when she saw them.

"Bonjour," she said.

"Bonjour!" Robert responded cheerfully. "Je m'appelle Robert Crawley." That seemed to be the extent of his French, for he reverted back to English. "We have two rooms booked under that name."

The woman clattered around on the computer. To Anna, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time to locate the information. Eventually, she looked up, shrugged, and said, "Nothing here, Monsieur Crawley."

Robert gave a pompous laugh. "I don't think you've checked properly. Have another gander, will you? I definitely booked it a couple of weeks ago."

The woman gave him a look of dislike, and did as he requested. Anna was quite sure that if she didn't value her employment so much, she would have told Robert what to do with his supposed booking. She clacked the keys with a hyperbolic slowness, then said in an equally slow voice, as if she believed that he couldn't understand his native language, "No booking for Crawley here."

John ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Rob, are you _sure_ you made the booking?"

"Of course I did!" he snapped. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I clicked on the 'complete booking' button on the website!"

"And?"

"And what? I closed it down, of course! I'd made the booking!"

John said a word that Anna had never heard him use before. "That's not what it means! You've still got to add your card details to pay for the room!"

Robert's brow creased in faint puzzlement. "Have you?"

" _Yes_! That's the whole point! No wonder you always get your bloody secretary to book your business trips! I suppose she booked the plane? You couldn't have managed that on your own. You're hopeless!"

"Hopeless is a bit strong!" Robert said indignantly, but John had already turned away.

"I'm so sorry about my friend," he said. "He's the one who made the mistake. I don't suppose you _do_ have any rooms left for us, do you? We just need them for a night."

The woman was more receptive to John's attitude; she clicked a few more keys and said, "We have two spare rooms. A double and a single."

"Not two doubles?" John said desperately.

"No. And we won't let two people into the single. Health and safety, you know?"

"Well, what can we do? Would you…would you perhaps permit one of us to stay down here in the reception lobby for the night? I know it might still be a healthy and safety issue, but you could keep an eye on us so you know we're not up to no good."

The woman debated this for a moment before saying, "All right. But you must go at first light, before my manager arrives, or I will be in trouble."

"Deal," said John. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver. How much for the rooms?"

She rattled off the price and John pulled out his company credit card. She handed the keys over and he led them a little away from the desk.

"Smooth operator," Anna teased.

He grinned bashfully at her, handing over one of the keys. "Well, here you go, ladies."

"Oh, no, I'm not sharing!" Mary said at once.

They all turned to look at her.

"Why not?" said John, frowning. "That makes the most sense. You and Anna take the double, and I'll take the single." He shot a sideways look at Robert. "No offence, but this is your balls up. You can be the one to suffer on the sofas here all night."

"That's hardly fair! We ought to settle this like a proper democracy, with a vote."

"I've got a bad knee, mate," John reminded him. "I can hardly spend all night on a cramped settee. It would be murder for me. You wouldn't want me to be too sore to walk in the morning, would you?"

"I call bull! You're always trying to prove to me that it's _not_ a bother to you!"

"I've got to be sensible sometimes."

"You're just guilt tripping me because you jumped in front of that bloody bullet!"

"Which still pains me today," John lamented. Anna swallowed a snort of laughter as he rubbed his right leg for greater effect. Yes, he was certainly a smooth operator. "But anyway, that's not the issue right now. Mary, just share with Anna!"

"No," she repeated stubbornly. "I like to have my own space."

"You share a house with me," Anna pointed out.

"Yes, a _house_! Not a pokey little bedroom! Why not share with John?"

"Because I am a man and she is a woman," he said. "It wouldn't feel right."

"I don't see why not. It's no different from two women platonically sharing. Besides," her eyes narrowed, "you've got to act as if you're boyfriend and girlfriend from tomorrow. No time like the present to start the ruse. It'll give you a bit of practice."

"Wait, _what_?" said Robert, his eyes as round as two penny pieces. "John and Anna are doing _what_?"

"Hasn't John told you?" Mary said casually. "That's the reason why he's here as Anna's plus one. She told her family that she was dating him."

"You told your family that you were dating _him_?" Robert echoed, looking both stunned and gleeful. "Why didn't you tell me this? How were you hoping to keep it a secret?"

"I was looking for the right moment," John muttered, avoiding everyone's gazes. "I'd've told you before we got to the wedding because I wouldn't want you to give the game away."

"He was trying to avoid telling me early so he could get away with not having the mick taken out of him," said Robert, perhaps a little too sagely. "That's a foolish hope."

"Look, can we just sort out these sleeping arrangements?" said John through gritted teeth. "Mary, _please_ just share with Anna!"

"No," she repeated stubbornly. "I'm having the room to myself." Without waiting another moment, she swiped the key out of John's loose grip and stalked away.

"Hey!" Anna cried indignantly. "Mary, get back here!"

Mary did not look back, disappearing into the lifts.

Anna turned to John. "Well, I guess that does leave us sharing the double room…unless you and Robert want to take it and I'll stay here for the night?"

"Absolutely not," said John at once. "Robert is staying here."

"You're a real friend," Robert scowled. John ignored him. He looked nervous.

"Look, if you'd rather us both stay down here…"

"I don't think the reception lady would like it," she pointed out. "She's already reluctant to let one of us stay down here. I don't mind sharing with you, John. I trust you."

He cleared his throat, the colour rising in his cheeks a little. "Right. Okay then. Yes. We'll share." He turned back to Robert. "We'll be back down here at seven so we can go and grab some breakfast. Have a good night."

"Fat chance of that," muttered Robert, glaring in resignation at the scratchy-looking sofas. John turned to her.

"Well, let's go then," he said, his voice wavering slightly. Nodding, she picked up her case and followed him into the lift.

"The key says we're on the second floor," she said, hoping her own voice sounded normal.

"Right."

They rode up in silence, and Anna led the way down the narrow corridor to their room. The key stuck a little in the lock. She hoped that it wasn't going to be a grimy place—hotels near the airports weren't always the cleanest back in England—but she was pleasantly surprised by the warm ambience of the room. She fumbled for the light switch and was met with cheery purple décor and gleaming light wood. It wasn't exactly luxury, but it was welcoming. She moved further into the room, trying not to let her gaze dart to the bed, which dominated the space. John shadowed her steps, resting his cane against the wall.

"How are we going to play this?" he asked. "I can sleep on the floor. Or I can take the chair in the corner. I really don't mind."

"Nonsense," she found herself saying. "The bed is plenty big enough for the both of us. Why, are you afraid that the romantic Parisian air will make me lose my head and jump on you?"

"No, no!" he stumbled, growing redder. "I just…are you sure?"

"I have shared a bed before," she said lightly, heaving her case onto the bed and unfastening it, rifling through it for a pair of pyjamas.

"Of course you have," said John, and there was something distinctly strange about his tone. She looked over at him, but he had turned away to ferret through his own case. A little disconcerted, she found what she was looking for and stretched.

"I'll go into the bathroom first, if that's okay?" she said.

"Sure," he said. "Can I just request that I have the side of the bed nearest the door? I have to lie on my left side so that I don't put too much pressure on my knee."

"Yes, that's fine," she said. She knew that he'd chosen that side deliberately. He obviously didn't want to find himself in a situation where he might have to look at her face. Well, it suited her well enough. She wasn't sure that she could handle trying to get to sleep in the knowledge that he might be studying her features.

With that, she went through to the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, and went to the loo. She filled up one of the glasses in the bathroom with provided bottled water before going back through to the bedroom.

"All yours," she told him.

John had grabbed his own kitbag and shot her a small smile. "Thanks." With that, he limped out of the room. It left her free to snuggle down in the bed and turn off the lamp over on her side.

John joined her ten minutes later. He was wearing a pair of black boxers and a t-shirt. Anna found that she couldn't take her eyes away from him. Damn him, he looked gorgeous. She had fantasised about seeing him undressed many times, but she could never have conjured up how strong and firm his legs looked under his trousers. She hadn't realised that she'd got a thing for legs until that very moment. The muscled thighs, covered in thick, dark hair, were one of the most erotic sights she had ever seen.

Apparently misreading her, he said, "I'm sorry, I don't have any pyjamas. I don't sleep in them in summer, and I never thought that a situation like this might arise. I know the knee looks a bloody sight."

In truth, Anna had barely registered the knee. Irresistibly, her eyes were drawn to it now, and she thinned her mouth. It was true, it _was_ a mess, criss-crossed in thick, ugly scars that only made him more beautiful to her for what they represented.

"I didn't even notice," she said truthfully.

John snorted, peeling back the covers and edging in beside her. "That's kind of you to say. Vera certainly noticed it. She loathed the way it looked. Wouldn't even go near me."

"Vera is an idiot," said Anna. "Can we please not talk about her?"

His ex-wife was a sore point. Anna knew that their marriage had been far from a happy one, which was why it had ended in such an acrimonious divorce, but she had never been quite able to get over the one and only meeting she had had with the other woman in John's life. It had been unexpected: Vera must have seen them out in the street together, and she had tracked her down to tell her that John would never look at her the way that he'd looked at her, Vera, and that she was the only one who would ever be able to give him what he wanted and craved. Anna had refused to play into Vera's hands and had sent her packing with a few choice words of her own, but the meeting had unsettled her nevertheless. She had never breathed a word of it to John. She couldn't believe that Vera hadn't twisted the knife with him, but if Vera _had_ ever mentioned their meeting, then John had never let on that he knew about it.

She knew that John had deeply resented Vera by the end, but it still niggled at her to know that he had impulsively married her—a fact related by Mary, not John—but stayed determinedly cautious nowadays. She could not be more different to Vera. He ought to know that she would never hurt him in that way. And yet there had never been a moment when there this strangely charged friendship could have tipped over into something more.

Or maybe she was being ungenerous. It wasn't really his fault if she felt something that he didn't. If she was brave enough to just come out and ask him…but then, what would happen if it ruined their friendship?

It was a pointless and vicious circle she had walked many times.

Sighing, Anna punched her pillow and settled down as comfortably as she could. She did not dare look around, but she felt John's heavy weight dipping the cheap mattress, sensed his heavy warmth. That was one thing. She wouldn't be cold tonight.

"Goodnight," said John.

"Goodnight," she echoed.

Neither of them spoke again after that, but it took a long time until John finally started to snore. Anna remained ramrod still, hardly daring to move, staring sightlessly into the darkness, hyper aware of him there in the bed beside her. Eventually, curiosity won out, and she turned her head just enough so that she could peer at him through the darkness.

Despite the fact that he was right on the edge of the bed, he took up a great deal of space. His back was broad, made more so by the way that he curled up on himself. Anna fancied that she could see the muscles in his back and the intimate skin of his neck that she was far too short to look at under normal circumstances. It was all stupid fantasy, of course. He was right _there_ , but he was no closer than he ever had been.

He snorted in his sleep, and she startled, flying back over to lie on her side. He didn't seem to awaken, resuming his snoring, but she didn't dare turn again.

She didn't think she'd sleep, but, eventually, exhaustion won out.

* * *

An alarm sounded at six. Anna jolted back awake at once, blinking blearily into the darkness. For a moment, it didn't register where she was.

And then John shifted beside her, and she was reminded full-force that she had just spent the night sharing a bed with him.

"Sorry," he said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. "I thought I'd better set it early so we can take a shower. I'll go first. You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want."

She grunted in reply, burying her head in the pillow. She had never been a morning person, and she felt like she had only been asleep for a minute before the alarm had sounded.

Before she could wake up enough to appreciate the position that they were still in, John jumped out of bed, gathered some things from his case, and disappeared into the shower. She heard the water running and idly imagined it trickling over his body for a moment before forcing her mind away. Those were unhelpful thoughts. Instead, she rolled over onto her other side, moving into the warm space that John had just vacated. She buried her nose into his pillow, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin. God, he smelled amazing. She could lie here all day.

Something which she wasn't permitted to do, unfortunately. When she heard the shower switch off, she moved reluctantly back to her side of the bed. It wouldn't do for him to catch her sniffing at his pillow like some crazed teenage girl. A few minutes later, he reappeared. He was already dressed. Damn. She'd hoped that he might come out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The only evidence that he'd showered at all was his hair, which was plastered to his head. Dark spots had appeared on his shirt where it had dripped.

"All yours," he said, pulling his towel over his head to scrub his hair.

"Thanks," she said, sliding out of bed. She too grabbed her necessities and headed into the bathroom.

The floor was wet and the mirror was steamed, but she picked her way carefully around the mess and hung her clean clothes over the radiator to keep them out of the way. After she'd finished showering, she wiped a part of the mirror so she could see to clean her teeth, then dressed in her clothes. She went back to the bedroom so she could fix her hair and makeup. John was sitting in the chair, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"How do you reckon Rob got on last night?" he asked.

"Well, it can't have been very comfortable on those settees."

"No. I can't believe he was stupid enough not to book the rooms right. I wonder why Mary was being so difficult?"

Anna shrugged. "I'm not sure. But we managed, didn't we?"

"Oh, of course we did!" John said hurriedly. "Anyway, I might go ahead of you and see how Robert is. Maybe we can swap places so he can come and freshen up. Would that be all right?"

"Yes, that's fine," said Anna. "I'll meet you down there in a bit?"

He nodded and, grabbing his cane and newly packed case, limped from the room.

* * *

By ten past seven, they were all congregated out on the street with their cases in tow. Paris was coming to life around them, with early morning commuters heading to work. Between them, they decided that it was impractical to traipse into a café with their luggage in tow, so John and Anna volunteered to go and fetch them some provisions while Mary and Robert stayed behind. They enjoyed a breakfast of croissants and coffee on a bench.

"So, have you definitely booked yourselves into a hotel tonight?" John asked as he brushed the crumbs from his jeans.

"Yes," said Robert, though he didn't look at all convinced.

"I'm going to telephone ahead to double check all the places he's said he's booked," said Mary with a disgruntled look. "In fact, I might start now. Anna, can I borrow you?"

"Borrow me?" Anna said in surprise. What could she do to help?

"You're not getting picked up until half ten," Mary pointed out. "It's not like you're in danger of running out of time. Come on."

She practically dragged her further away, out of the line of sight of the two men. As soon as they were round the corner, she stopped, fixing her with a look.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well what?" said Anna, mystified by her friend's peculiar behaviour and not really in the mood for it after her antics of the previous evening.

"What happened between you and John!?" said Mary.

"What do you mean, what happened? Nothing, of course! We shared the bed. John did want to sleep on the floor, but I convinced him otherwise."

"Oh, you idiots," Mary sighed.

"I'm not an idiot," said Anna heatedly. "And now that you mention it, I want to have a word with you about your behaviour yesterday. What was all that dramatic refusal to share the room with _me_ about!?"

"I thought you would have worked that one out."

"Sorry, I didn't."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I was trying to _help_ you, of course."

"I see," said Anna sarcastically. "Well, that makes everything clearer. Thanks."

"No need to take that tone with me. Look, I thought that if you and John were forced to share a room, it might spark something. You know, being forced to share a bed, your bodies touching…"

"Our bodies were nowhere near touching. You could've fit a third person between us. And I still don't understand why you were doing it. You know this is only a pretend game for the benefit of my family."

"But it's _not_!" Mary said triumphantly. "Do you really think I'm so stupid, Anna? I'm not my papa. I'm not about to swallow any story you give me. I know you've never admitted it before, but it's obvious. You fancy John. There's no other explanation for it."

"There are plenty of explanations if you cared to look further," said Anna, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks anyway. Bloody fantastic. She'd been hoping to avoid that situation with her friend.

"I don't care to look further. How long have I known you now? And you've barely ever shown an interest in a man before. Even when you were with Callum, you weren't even half as enthusiastic as you are when you're around John, and you've not got past the friend stage yet. You never really talked about Callum, but I can't get you to shut up about John. You've practically got hearts in your eyes. And don't even get me started on the way you lean over his desk at work. I've seen you. Your breasts are basically in his face."

And yet he didn't even _look_ at them, Anna grumbled internally, but felt it best not to mention this titbit to her friend. "If you knew, why did you make such a fuss about it when I told you?"

"Because it _is_ still John. The John I've known from being a child. My papa's best friend. I'm never going to understand your tastes. I might one day find it in me not to tease you senseless, but I don't see that day any time soon."

Thanks a lot," Anna grumbled. "And now a word of advice from me: next time you think you've got a masterplan to orchestrate something between John and me, think again and don't execute it. You're rubbish."

Mary coughed. "Well, now you say that…"

"Oh, God, what's that supposed to mean!?" she squeaked.

"I _do_ have a little something for you," said Mary. "It's in my case. Here, I'll get it for you. But you mustn't open it just yet. Wait until you're completely alone before you have a look. You'll regret it otherwise."

"God, what is it!?" Anna said fearfully, jogging along behind her friend. "I mean it, Mary, I'll bloody swing for you…!"

The threat didn't seem to both Mary in the slightest; after ordering her father out of the way and opening her case right there on the bench, she rummaged around and brought out a plain paper bag.

Robert stared. "What on earth is that?"

"Never you mind," said Mary. "It's for Anna, not for you."

"What is it, Anna?"

"No idea," she said, snatching at the bag and stuffing it into her pocket; whatever was inside felt like a box.

"Let's see," said John, not taking his eyes from her pocket.

"Not a chance," she replied. "It's private."

"Women's stuff," said Mary helpfully. "Anna's started her period, and she forgot to pack some essentials. I'm giving her some until she can get to the shops."

Robert recoiled, blanching. John said, "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed about. We'll drop the subject now. So, did Robert book the hotel?"

"I haven't checked yet."

John frowned. "But isn't that what you went over there to find out…?"

"Oh, be quiet, Bates. Stop interfering. I'm going to do it now. Papa, you'd better come. If you haven't made the bookings then we're going to need your card…"

Robert gave them a helpless look as he was dragged away.

"See you in a week!" John called after their retreating backs. He turned back to Anna. "What do you fancy doing until we get picked up?"

"I don't know," she said. "As long as we're inside and I'm away from Mary, I'm up for anything."

John laughed.

* * *

Half past ten seemed to be crawling towards them like some gruesome entity from a horror film. Every time Anna glanced at John, she saw that he had got progressively paler. By twenty past, his skin had taken on a decidedly green hue. She reached out and touched his arm.

"It's going to be okay," she said, more confidently than she felt. In truth, she had some reservations of her own. But she would have to trust her family to be polite, at least to John's face. It wouldn't be fair to make him feel ill at ease, and her mum hated giving the impression that she was less than a forgiving member of society, even if it wasn't always the case.

The last ten minutes trickled by. Anna watched the pendulum of the nearby clock swing like the hangman's noose.

A car pulled up. Anna stiffened at once.

"They're here," she said.

But only Tim jumped out, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Annie," he said, kissing her enthusiastically on both cheeks. "It is so good to see you again! And you must be John?" He turned to him with a curious look.

"Yes," said John, hooking his cane over his left arm and extending his right hand. "John Bates. Pleased to meet you."

"Timeo Dubois."

Anna reached up to kiss Tim on the cheek. "How are you? Feeling well? My sister not driving you too mad?"

"I would not say even if she was," said Tim dryly. "Can I take your luggage?"

John helped him stash it in the boot of the car, then took the passenger seat while Anna slid into the back. She buckled herself in and leaned back with a sigh. It had been a very early start this morning, and she had no doubt that there would be no let up for the foreseeable future. Her mum and Cat would be determined to grill her over every single aspect of her relationship with John.

"So, Cat tells me that you met at work?" said Tim as he pulled back into traffic. "That is very nice. It is where Cat and I met also."

"I see," said John awkwardly. Anna resisted the urge to smack her own forehead. She'd been a bit short-sighted not to tell John anything about Cat and Tim. She'd been so focused on ensuring that her family would find that _their_ experiences matched up that she'd completely forgotten to give more background information on them. They would expect him to know certain things by now, things that would feasibly have been dropped into casual conversation. John knew a little about her family life, but he certainly didn't know the ins and outs of her sister's relationship. She leaned forward in her seat quickly.

"Has Mum driven you up the wall yet?" she asked desperately. "I know what she can be like when she has the bit between her teeth."

"I am saying nothing," said Tim. "She is no more fearsome than ma mère. You have yet to meet her, but you will see what I mean." He threw an amused look John's way. "Whatever you do, do not let her hear you calling me Tim. It is always Timeo in her company."

"She thinks Tim is too common," interjected Anna. "She calls my sister Catherine."

"How your sister laments it, Annie," said Tim. "She so hates her name."

They drove largely in silence. Tim seemed to understand that they had had a very tiring couple of days, and he was more than content to let them be. Anna was grateful for that. It meant that John couldn't find himself in a sticky situation without her help in getting him out of it, and it also meant that he could adjust to Tim's manner. She knew that he was not always entirely comfortable when meeting new people and Tim, as lovely as he was, could sometimes be a little intense. It was probably how he had met his match in Cat.

It took them almost an hour to reach their destination. Their journey took them out of the bustling heart of the city to one of the quieter districts, lined with pretty houses. Anna felt her heart lurch with excitement despite her apprehension. She did miss her family, and the promise of seeing them again filled her with joy.

They pulled up outside the house on the end row of a quaint little street. Tim threw the car into neutral and switched off the ignition. Before Anna could grope for the door handle, John had beaten her to it, opening it for her and standing back to let her out. Always such a gentleman.

"Thank you, love," she said, the endearment rolling off her tongue like honey.

"I'm surprised your mum isn't waiting outside," said Tim as he opened the boot.

"I'm not. She doesn't want to look too eager."

"Yes, but Cat doesn't care about those things. She always wants to know everything first. Anyway, I'll just take your cases in and head off. I have to get back to work." He held out his hand again. "It was very nice to meet you, John."

"Likewise," John murmured.

Anna touched his wrist as he made to follow Tim.

"Let him go first," she murmured. "It'll be easier when it's just us."

"He calls you Annie," said John with a slight smile on his face.

"He always has. I couldn't even tell you why. If it was from anyone else I would absolutely despise it, but it's not so bad from him. And don't even think about getting any ideas. If you start calling me it I won't hesitate to smack you."

"Duly noted," he said. "But you've got nothing to worry about. I much prefer Anna. It's far prettier."

Why was he always so obliviously charming? Shaking her head, she said, "Come on, let's go. It's time to face the music. And take my hand. I think that will make it look more authentic, like I'm giving you moral support."

"All right," he said faintly, all humour leaving his face. Tentatively, he reached out with his left hand and twined it through her right. She sucked in a sharp breath.

It was the first time he had ever held her hand. And it felt amazing.

His broad palm pressed against hers. His thick, calloused fingers, possessing so much strength, held hers with a delicacy that belied his large size. It was impossibly warm. And, though it was the first time she had ever touched him in such a way, she was sure that it was a touch that could bring great comfort to anyone, a touch that would never fail to make someone feel safe and loved.

Tim exited the house and made his way back towards the car.

"They're waiting in the kitchen," he said, tipping them a wink. "I'll see you soon, Annie, John."

With that, he hopped into the car and sped off, leaving them alone.

"They were grilling him," said Anna. "Wanting to know what to expect. If he was only dropping the cases in then he wouldn't have taken so long."

John grinned sardonically, though there was a real hint of trepidation underneath. "Let's see if I meet their expectations."

"You will," Anna said staunchly. "There's nothing about you that's unlikeable."

She led him up the garden path and pushed open the front door.

"Mum, Cat? We're here!" she called.

She could hear whispered hissing from the kitchen, then her mum's casual voice. "Oh, hello, love! We're just through here!"

They kicked off their shoes and moved towards the kitchen. John squeezed her hand tighter. She glanced back at him. He looked as if he was fighting the urge to be sick.

"Hey," she said, "it'll be all right."

"They're not going to like this," he whispered.

"They are. And if they don't, well, they'll get a piece of my mind."

But her own insides twisted. Determined not to let him see her nerves, she led him down the rest of the passageway, pausing for a second in the doorway. Taking a deep breath and pushing back her shoulders, she entered the room.

"Mum, Cat!" she said.

"Oh, my little darling!" shrieked her mum, and next moment she was enveloped completely in her arms. John took a startled step backwards, his hand sliding out of hers, and Anna wrapped her own arms around her mum. The embrace lasted for several long moments before Mum stepped away, eyeing her critically.

"You look thin," she decided. "Have you been eating enough? I hope you're not dieting. And you look very pale. It doesn't suit you."

Anna rolled her eyes. "I'm exactly the same as I was at Christmas."

Mum sniffed. "Yes, well, you need someone to look after you."

"And I've found him," she retorted. This was it. She half-turned to find John lurking on the periphery, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him nearer, slipping easily under his arm. "Mum, Cat, I'd like you to meet John."

Cat, Anna noticed, had been staring at him openly. She came forward now, eyebrow arched. "John. Hello." Her expression was largely unreadable, though Anna could detect a hint of disbelief in her features.

Her mum, on the other hand, did nothing to disguise her appraisal. Her eyes swept from the top of John's head right down to his feet, lingering on the crooked knee and the cane that he held in his right hand. To her dismay, she could tell that her mum had been expecting someone else entirely.

"John," she said flatly.

"It's nice to meet you," said John awkwardly. No one moved for several seconds, and the silence grew overwhelmingly.

"I'd love a cup of tea," Anna babbled.

"Put the kettle on, Cat," said Mum slowly.

"But—"

"Now, please."

With a huff, Cat stomped over to the kettle. Water gushed over the sides and sprayed everywhere as she put the tap on with too much force. Amid very colourful swearing on her sister's part and scandalised "Catherine!"s on her mother's, Anna craned her neck so she could look up at John properly. "Welcome to the mad house."

"Anna, really," Mum said reprovingly. She went back to scrutinising him with a piercing blue gaze. "Well, John, it's nice that you're finally here. You're not what I was expecting."

Anna bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not like I had much information to go on," she argued. "Beyond his name, I didn't know a thing about him. He's very…different from Callum."

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Cat said breezily. "Callum was a prat, wasn't he?"

Mum made a non-committal noise. Anna knew that she had always quite liked Callum, with his cheeky smile and boyish good looks. He'd certainly known how to be charming. Too charming—it was his ability to charm the skirts off other women that had led to them breaking up in the first place. Yet Anna had a sneaking suspicion that her mum would rather her have brought someone like that home again rather than this stoic, silent man who was clearly many years her senior. She wondered if it would have made a different impression if she had thought to wear different shoes. Her flats were the most comfortable, but they did nothing to aid her small stature. It had been one of life's great indignities when her sister, though younger, had towered above her. It wasn't as if Cat was very tall—at five five, she stood at the average height for a woman—but to Anna, who was barely five two, she seemed a million miles above her. When she stood beside John, she felt as if she was in a giant's shadow, a feeling intensified by his broad stature. It did nothing but make her feel safe, standing beside his towering form, but she wondered now if it was only emphasising the sheer difference between them, that she looked like a young girl and not a woman of twenty-eight. She squared her shoulders, ready to do battle, and was surprised when someone else spoke. John.

"Callum was more than a prat. He was an idiot."

"Oh," said Mum, sounding surprised. "You know about Callum, then?"

"Yes," said John. "And he had to be a complete idiot to treat someone as wonderful as Anna like that." He gave a modest shrug. "But I ought to thank him, really. Anna and I might not have been together otherwise. I genuinely can't understand how a man can be so stupid that he doesn't realise exactly what he already has in someone like your daughter."

Mum looked slightly mollified at that, though she did not stop scrutinising him. "Well, sit down. Cat, make that tea."

She bustled over to the table and, after exchanging a look, Anna and John followed suit. Anna made sure that she kept a hold of John's hand beneath the line of the table. It was about more than just putting on a good show. She had a feeling that John really did need the reassurance right now, and she would not shy away from the challenge.

It seemed like her mum was not going to shy away, either. She stared at them from across the other side of the table and said baldly, "I'll admit, Mr. Bates, you've given me quite a shock. I never saw my Anna with a man like you."

"A man like what?" Anna said hotly. "Look, John is a good man. The best of men. He also happens to be my best friend. I don't care what you think. I'm with him and that's all that matters." She shot a look at Cat. "Is that tea nearly ready?"

Cat shot her another raised-eyebrow look before unfolding herself so that she could fetch the milk from the fridge. Taut silence reigned until she placed the cups in front of them and took a seat beside Mum.

"So," she said brightly, "Anna says you met through work?"

"That's right," said John slowly. "Two years ago. I moved from London to Downton and started working at the offices. I think you know Mary? Well, I'm her father's best friend—"

He stopped abruptly, perhaps realising that announcing that he was the best friend of _her_ friend's father was doing nothing to diminish the age gap between them. Anna jumped in quickly. "That's right. And it was pretty much love at first sight."

John glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she looked determinedly forward at her family.

"And what about for you, John?" asked Mum.

"Not quite as fast," he said carefully. "I shall admit it: I shared many of the reservations that you have about me. I hope you know that I have always wanted what's best for Anna. But the more time I spent with her, the more difficult it was to tell myself that what I felt was strictly platonic. In the end…" He shrugged. "Well, I felt like we were both unhappy by being apart. I trust Anna, therefore I trusted that she knew what was best for herself. I won't claim to ever understand what she sees in me, but I shall be thankful for it every day."

More silence met his words. Cat grabbed her cup and slurped her tea noisily.

"I like that you think so highly of my daughter," said Mum at last. "She is very special to me, and it's more important than ever that she finds someone who treats her well because I can't be there to look after her."

"John looks after me very well," said Anna. "Now, would it be all right if we took our cases upstairs?"

"I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," said Mum. "Follow me."

They all got to their feet. In the hall, Anna reached for her case, but John placed his hand over hers.

"Allow me," he said.

"No, really, it's fine," she protested, but he ignored her, hoisting it into his left hand. He leaned his cane against the wall and picked up his own.

"Is that a good idea?" Mum said nervously.

"I can manage in the house, Mrs. Smith," said John politely. "Please, lead the way."

She nodded uncertainly, and started up the stairs. John followed her. Anna shadowed him, with Cat bringing up the rear, looking entirely too entertained. On the landing, they paused.

"Anna, you can have this room here," she said, indicating the door nearest the stairs. "And John, you can have the one at the other end of the corridor."

"Mum sleeps in the middle," Cat muttered to Anna. "She does it to stop anyone from sneaking into each other's rooms. It's no worth trying it. Believe me, I'm talking from personal experience. Tim and I once tried to sleep together here and it all went unbelievably wrong. The mattresses have to be the squeakiest ones in existence. It summoned her like the devil, and she gave me such a roasting. We never did try it again. So you and Johnny are going to have to keep your hands off each other."

"I think we'll manage," Anna said. "I'm not really sure how sexy it is to have sex when you know that your parents are next door."

"And that's where we differ," said Cat with a wink. "The illicit nature of it only makes it hotter. Not that we got the opportunity, because like I said…"

"Spare me the details," Anan said hastily.

"What are you two girls whispering about over there?" called Mum, breaking up the conversation. "Come on! Anna, dear, why don't you get changed? I thought we might go out for some lunch, get to know each other a little bit more. There's so much that I don't know about John. If he's to become part of the family, we're going to have to know more. What do you say, John?"

"Oh, yes, fine," he responded, looking like a rabbit cornered by the fox. Anna sped over to him, rescuing her case from his hands.

"Why don't you wait for us downstairs?" she said. "We'll only be ten minutes."

"All right," said Mum.

"Don't try anything in those ten minutes, though—you can hear those bloody mattresses through the ceiling."

" _Catherine!"_

"What? I'm just passing on some helpful advice…"

Anna waited until she heard the two of them arguing distantly in the kitchen before resuming her own conversation with John.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I've been better. But I didn't expect any different. No parent in their right mind would be pleased that their daughter is dating an old, crippled bloke."

"Rubbish," she said fiercely. "They don't know you yet, that's their problem. Once they realise what a wonderful man you are, they'll be telling me that I have to marry you at once."

The words lingered between them. John coughed awkwardly.

"Right," he said. "Well, thank you for the confidence booster, Anna. I'd better go and freshen up. Which room is the bathroom?"

"The one straight across from here," said Anna, but she caught his wrist before he could move away from her. "John, listen to me. Please don't let their frosty reception get you down or play mind tricks with you. This does not make you worthless. I'm ashamed that they've done it, but they've judged a book by its cover. You are worth so much more than you think. I know you think that you're undeserving because of the way that you and Vera screwed everything up, but I categorically tell you that you're not. You are so much better than that. You might have made mistakes in the past, but you've learned from those, and you're a better man because of it. You've helped so many people since moving to Downton, me at the very least. You've helped to make my world a brighter place, and no one could ever replace you. By the end of it, my family will see what I mean."

"Not entirely," he quipped, then softened. "Thank you, Anna. I mean it. Really." He reached out and squeezed the hand that was still on his arm, then stepped away. Anna took a step back too.

"I'll meet you downstairs," she babbled.

She smiled despite herself when she entered the bedroom that would be hers for the next few days. Her mum had always had the tendency to clutter spaces, and here was no exception. There were a hundred trinket boxes covering every surface, picture frames on every spare inch of wall, and various ornaments picked up from various places in France. This wasn't her home, but it was a comforting reminder of her childhood days in Downton.

Shaking her head, she set about touching up her makeup and squirting more perfume. She wrestled with her hair and, once she'd deemed herself acceptable, made her way back downstairs.

She was grateful to see that John had not yet arrived. Standing in the threshold, she cocked her head slightly and listened for the sound of him creaking about above her head. Reassured that he wasn't yet following her, she slipped into the kitchen.

Her mum and sister were sitting together at the table, heads bent close. They jerked apart at once when she cleared her throat.

"Having a good gossip, are we?" she asked, taking the seat opposite them.

"Of course not!" said Mum guiltily.

"So," said Anna, ignoring her, "what do you think?" She might as well get this over and done with now, while John wasn't in the room. It was going to come to a head at some point, so it might as well be on her own terms, early on, so she could nip it in the bud.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Mum kept glancing helplessly at Cat, as if she hoped that she would take the lead, but Cat didn't seem to want to be forthcoming.

"I told you. He's…not what I expected," said Mum at last.

"You might as well expand on it. Come on, get it off your chest." Anna stared at each of them in turn, challenging.

Cat held up her hands. "Hey, don't look at me, sis. He's not to my tastes, but whatever floats your boat. I'm hardly one to judge. Remember Michael Pearson? God, he was a total stoner. I only stayed with him in the first place because I was stoned half the time too."

 _What!?"_ Their mum's voice was sharp as a cracked whip, and filled with disgust and horror. "Catherine Elizabeth Smith, you've taken _drugs_!? Good God, did I raise you to be so irresponsible?"

"Oh, don' be so dramatic," said Cat indifferently. "It was only a bit of weed, and I've not done it since I was twenty. Every kid in the village has done it at some point. Even Anna."

"I did not!" Anna said indignantly as her mum swung an accusatory gaze on her. She wasn't stupid enough to admit to anything at the present time. Besides, one joint once when she was eighteen hardly counted. "Anyway, you're getting off the topic. I asked you what you thought of John. You might as well tell me the truth. I'd prefer it to you lying to me."

Mum drummed her fingernails against the table top a few times before admitting helplessly, "Well, he is a bit…old. I don't like that. I mean, he's only a few years younger than I am! If your dad was here, he'd have a heart attack."

"The age difference has never bothered me," said Anna. "I don't care about any of that. Surely the most important thing is that we're on the same wavelength and he makes me happy?"

"But there are so many young men around…you could have your pick…"

"I don't want my pick," she said firmly. "I've tried dating my own age group, and look where that's got me in the past. As Cat pointed out, Callum was a prat, and I haven't had any great success since then. John has never once looked at me as if I'm less than a human being. He's never treated me like a piece of meat. He's kind and respectful and everything a woman can ask for. You're not looking past the physical. You're not seeing the man that he is inside."

"That's a bit unfair," Mum huffed. "I met him ten minutes ago. It hasn't given me much time to look beyond the physical, has it?"

Anna pursed her lips. That was a bit of a lame answer. _She'd_ had no problems looking past the physical straight away on the day that they had met. Everyone else had been gossiping about his injury and his suitability for the job, but she had been preoccupied with the kindness in his eyes, the tightness of his smile that suggested that he was long used to being treated in such a manner. She had resolved that she would not fall into the same prejudices that her fellows had. Instead, she had fallen into something more.

Oblivious, her mum said, "Though while we're on the subject of the physical…what happened to him? Why does he have a walking stick? He's a lot older than I want for you, but he's not old to have a cane…"

"Afghanistan happened," Anna said shortly. "He saved his best friend's life and was injured for life because of it. If it wasn't for John, Mary would have grown up fatherless."

More uncomfortable silence followed this, but Anna was determined that she wasn't going to be the one to break it. She would let them both squirm in their guilt that they had thought badly of a war hero. Even if they hadn't known anyone who had personally been in the fighting, it was impossible not to know something about it. Every day the newspapers had reported more bleak news of destructions, the news had aired more scenes of soldiers who would never go back home to their families.

"I'm sorry," Mum said at last. "I didn't know."

"It still shouldn't make a difference," said Anna. "How he came by the injury doesn't change him as a person. And he'll thank you kindly for never bringing it up or making it an issue. He'd prefer to forget it if he could. And, believe it or not, it _is_ easy to forget that he has it. It's not a limitation, nor does it define him."

"All right, Anna, we get it," said Cat. "We're sorry. So lay off it, yeah?"

Anna shot her a glowering look. Easier said than done. It was hard to do that when the man she loved had to struggle against the poor opinions of the people she wanted most to think good of him. Before she could say any more, however, there was a tentative knock on the frame of the door. John stood there, looking self-conscious.

"Is it okay ifI come in?" he asked.

"Don't be silly," Anna said. "You don't have to ask anything in this house."

"I just didn't want to interrupt anything."

"You're not. Besides, we're going out for dinner now. Right?"

"I'll grab my coat," muttered Mum.

"And I guess I'll drive," said Cat. "I've only got a little Peugeot, though. Will you be okay in that, Johnny?"

"Yes," he said politely.

"Great," she said, bounding to her feet. "Meet you outside."

When she had gone, John turned to her. "Really, how was it?"

"Fine," Anna said resolutely. "Really, John. Stop worrying."

"I just don't want to let you down."

She looked him in the eye, willing him to see the truth of her words. "You could _never_ let me down. Now come on, let's go."

Gently, she took his hand in hers and led him out of the house. And it was for the briefest of seconds, but she was certain that he squeezed it in gratitude.

* * *

They enjoyed a quiet meal out at a traditional French restaurant. It seemed like her mum was making a conscious effort to get to know John better. She asked him questions about his nomadic childhood, though Anna detected a flicker of displeasure in her eyes when he mentioned his Catholic mother. Of course that would present another problem. Her family had never been the kind to attend church, but they had been christened Protestant and her mum was a vigorous believer, and Anna knew that on some level the minor differences in their religions would present a chasmic problem. Never mind the fact that, as a self-confessed disbeliever, John probably wouldn't care what their children were christened as. It was a miracle that Cat had fallen for one of the very few Protestants in France.

God, look at her. Acting as if she and John were legitimately going to discuss having children one day. She was getting dangerously in over her head. She would have to remind herself that this was not a real relationship. Hell, they had only just held hands for the benefit of her family, never mind anything else. Yes, she loved him, but it was not a good idea to get swept up in ideas of grandeur and longevity that would never come to be. Once this break was over, they would go back to how they had been before, perhaps sharing an awkward laugh about their adventures from time to time. She would go back into the neat little box labelled _friends_ , and that would be the end of it. It was unwise for her to think of anything else.

And yet she couldn't help it.

"So, John," said Mum, "Anna tells me that you were in the army."

John glanced sideways at her. She mouthed 'sorry' at him, feeling the uncomfortable prickle of shame at her scalp. She had _told_ Mum not to bring up the army. Why did they want to thwart her at every turn? She couldn't remember it being this difficult when she had introduced Callum to them. There hadn't been nearly as many awkward and intrusive questions. She was sure that they were only keeping it up because of the age difference between them. If John had been in his late twenties, like her, he was sure to have been welcomed with open arms.

Or perhaps Dad had been the one to rein Mum in before, when she had first been getting serious with Callum.

But he was no longer here to protect her that way.

"Yes, I was," John said after a moment's pause.

"Out in Afghanistan."

"Yes, that's right."

"It must have been very frightening for you."

"I won't deny it. But it wasn't the first time that I'd been in a warzone, so I had some idea of what to expect. It was a lot worse for the young lads who had never served before. It was our jobs as more experienced soldiers to take them under our wings and look after them." His jaw tightened. She knew he was remembering young William Mason, who he had been unable to save. It had taken him a very long time to tell her that story, and they had never mentioned it since, but just knowing that he'd trusted her enough to tell her about some of his worst experiences made her feel privileged.

"But you were invalided out?"

He nodded. Anna detected it there, that look of resignation. "Yes. After the injury. It wasn't surprising. I could never have served them again in the same way. I didn't really like the idea of having a desk job when I was used to being out there and actively serving, so I decided to break away entirely."

"And yet you ended up in an office anyway," said Mum, and Anna wanted to throw her hands up and scream. This was getting ridiculous. It seemed that no matter what he said, he was destined to displease her. She couldn't have that.

"I'm jolly glad for it," she said, making a show of putting her hand over his on the table top.

"Yes," he agreed, looking across to her. "There was something good in getting injured. I never thought I'd find someone like Anna, especially after the disaster of my marriage, which I hope you know—"

" _Marriage?_ " said Mum, interrupting him sharply. "Who said anything about marriage?"

John frowned faintly. "Didn't you…?" At once, his face paled, and he glanced across her at, mortified and ashamed. Anna felt the ice spreading through her entire body. Shit.

"No, I didn't know," said Mum, finishing his thought for him. "Anna neglected to tell me that in all of her conversations about your qualities. I daresay it slipped her mind."

Cat, for once, seemed speechless. Her gaze darted between them all, as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was relevant," said Anna as steadily as she could, gripping his hand tighter. She needed that support, needed that tenuous strength beneath her.

"Of course it's relevant!"

"How?" Anna demanded. "What does the past have to do with the here and now?"

Mum glanced tersely at John. He seemed to understand the look at once, dropping his head.

"I'll step outside for a moment," he said.

"You don't have to go," Anna retorted at once.

"I need a cigarette, anyway," he muttered, and pulled his hand from beneath hers. She watched him go for a moment, stooped and limping more pronouncedly than ever, then rounded on her mother.

"What's your problem?" she said heatedly.

"My problem is, Anna May Smith, that you've deliberately kept a very important fact from me! Not only is he a great deal older than you, he's already been married once before! Are you going to tell me that there are kids floating around somewhere too?"

"No, there aren't," she snapped.

"Well, there might have been for all I know. He's certainly old enough to have fathered a couple."

"Why are you so determined to dislike him? He hasn't done a thing to deserve it. You won't even give him the chance to prove that he's worthy. You're just dismissing him out of hand."

"Don't pretend that you wouldn't feel exactly the same if you were in my position."

"I'd trust my child enough to trust that she was making the right choice," she shot back. "You trusted Cat to move to France!"

"That's completely different and you know it!"

"Why? Because Cat ended up choosing someone who you deem suitable? Did his money swing it for you?"

"Hey, don't bring Tim into this!" said Cat. "It's not his fault!"

Anna took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. "You're right. But neither is it John's. He's a good man. You're just refusing to see the positives."

"We're not saying he's a bad man," said Mum. "But we hardly know the fellow. We're going to need a few more days to make our minds up about him. Happily, we have that. Now please, stop flying off the handle whenever we so much as question him. He's a grown man. He can take care of himself."

"Sure," Anna said tersely. "Now, please excuse me. I should go outside and see how he is."

"You'll miss dessert."

"We'll order when I'm back. Feel free to finish your meal and get your side of the bill."

"It's my treat."

"No, we'd rather pay our own way. I'll see you soon."

She pushed her chair away and made her way out of the little restaurant. She found John standing not too far away, a cigarette burning in his fingers. He managed a feeble quirk of the lips when he saw her. She held his gaze as she reached him, slipping around him so she was downwind of his smoking.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I can't believe I keep having to apologise for them, but I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really. I understand where they're coming from. I'm just sorry that I've messed things up for you."

"How can you possibly have messed anything up for me?" she said.

"I didn't realise that you hadn't told them about my marriage. I assumed you had when you said that they knew everything. Now I've put you in a difficult position with them again."

"Don't be silly," she said fiercely. "You could never put me in a difficult position. I really couldn't care less about Vera. My family shouldn't either. Your past is none of their business."

He tapped ash from the end of his cigarette, snorting. "The bright side is that your mum will be over the moon when we break up."

"Well, fake or not, you've been a wonderful boyfriend. I shall be sad." She bumped her shoulder against his affectionately, and rejoiced when she raised a smile. "Don't worry, John. We'll be fine. I'll protect you from Mum."

"I have to say, I'm very touched. I don't think I could be in a safer pair of hands when it comes to having a fake girlfriend defend my honour."

"Yes, well, don't think I go around doing this for anyone. It's only because you're my best friend."

"That's the highest of high praise," he said, and she shuffled closer. They stood in silence while he finished smoking.

"We should get back inside," she sighed.

"Yes, you're right," said John, sounding reluctant.

"How about I promise to buy you dessert?"

He chuckled. " _I'm_ buying. Now, how about some chocolate cake, Miss Smith?"

She smiled at him, glad that he could at least joke a little. "Chocolate cake sounds stodgy and comforting. Let's do it, Mr. Bates."

He offered her his hand and she took it, and together they went back into the lion's den.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly, if a little stiltedly. After their meal, Anna thought it would be prudent for them all to go their separate ways for a bit, and claimed that she wanted to show John around the small area for a while. She could tell it didn't sit well with her mum or with her sister, but she didn't care. She and John browsed around together, went to a café for some sandwiches when they got hungry, and finally returned to the Smith residence when they could put it off no longer. Once there, they all made more of an effort, speaking to each other in overly polite manners and discussing nothing heavier than the weather. At last, Mum glanced at the clock.

"I expect you're tired," she said. "Bed time, I think. I'm just going to have a cup of tea before I turn in."

She stood and bustled into the kitchen. Cat hung back, smirking.

"She's giving you time for a more private goodnight," she said. "Use the time wisely, guys. See you in the morning. Don't forget we've got the final dress fittings tomorrow, Anna."

"I won't," Anna said. "See you in the morning."

Together, she and John made their way upstairs, pausing outside Anna's door. John leaned against the doorjamb.

"How long should I linger?" he whispered.

"Give it a minute or two," she replied in a low voice. "They're going to expect us to be giving each other a thorough goodnight. They're not going to be curious about the quiet. They'll think we're snogging."

John coughed and averted his gaze. A short, awkward silence followed them for a moment before they smiled at each other and ducked their heads. No words were exchanged until a hurried goodnight a minute later, and then John carried on down the landing to the bedroom that had been allocated to him. The creaking of the floorboards must have alerted the others to the end of their goodnights, for Cat hollered farewell and banged the door behind her on the way out, and Mum creaked her way up the stairs.

Anna picked her coat up from the bed where she'd laid it earlier and threw it in the direction of the chair in the corner, too tired to bother hanging it up tonight, but it hit it with a dull thunk that did not match with the sound that it should have made. She paused, then remembered that Mary had handed her some mysterious package that very morning. In all of the madness since then, she had forgotten all about that.

Well, there was no time like the present.

Hurrying over to her coat, she delved deep into the pocket to pull out that brown bag. She thrust her hand into the packet, coming into contact with something square and cellophane wrapped. A box of some sort. Curious, she pulled it out, and swore, dropping it as if it had burned her.

Condoms. Bloody _condoms_.

Shakily, almost afraid that it would leap up and bite her, she bent down to retrieve it, holding it delicately between forefinger and thumb. Of all the things that Mary could have given her, she presented her with _this_. Was this her idea of a joke? Anna could well imagine that it was: she'd had a field day when she'd first heard that she had asked John to pretend to be her boyfriend, and had gone to those baffling lengths just last night to ensure that they shared a room. It seemed that she was determined to make them as embarrassed as she could before this trip was out. Not that it would take much in that respect, with uncomfortable questions coming at them from left, right, and centre.

But even so. Bloody _condoms_.

She stuffed them hastily into her open suitcase, burying them beneath a pile of her knickers. They were never going to see the light of day again. It was a rather lamentable fact, really, though she would not give Mary the satisfaction of knowing that. Stomping back to her dresser, she picked up her phone and fired off two words: _Nice try._

The reply was almost instantaneous: _There's plenty of time yet._

 _I don't think so. Now stop trying to embarrass me. Or do you want me to tell everyone that you're holidaying with your father?_

 _Touché, Anna. Well, we'll see who's thanking who at the end of the holiday. When in Rome and all that._

 _We're not in Rome._

 _Fine, be a wet blanket. I'm not going to engage with you any further when you're up on your high horse. See you and your lover boy soon. X_

Anna stared down at her phone, shaking her head in disbelief. Honestly. She had never known someone as infuriating as Mary Crawley in her whole life. Well, perhaps Cat would give her a close run for her money. It was surprising that the two of them didn't get on better, for between them they did a fantastic job of making her life hell.

 _When in Rome…_

Was it a possibility?

No, she told herself firmly. John would never go in for something like that. And she wouldn't want him to do something that he would regret when he got home, something that would jeopardise their entire friendship. Mary could look for her entertainment elsewhere.

Replacing her phone on the bedside cabinet, Anna went through her nightly ablutions and snuggled down into bed. It had been a very action packed day. She was glad to be able to sleep.

As she turned onto her side, however, a little treacherous voice in the back of her head told her that she had had a better night last night, when John Bates had been but feet away from her in the very same bed.

* * *

The next morning came around too soon. After bolting down some breakfast, Anna rushed upstairs to get changed, waiting for her sister to come and pick her up for that all important dress fitting.

When she heard the honk of the horn outside, she turned to find her mum still sans coat. She raised her eyebrow.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Mum said vaguely. "I'm going to wait until the wedding day before I see you kitted out for the first time. It'll make it more special."

"Fair enough," Anna shrugged, before turning to call up the stairs. "John, are you ready?"

"Actually, I was thinking that John could stay here with me."

Anna raised her eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, it will give us the chance to get to know one another a little better," Mum said. "It would be quite nice to sit down with a cup of tea and have a bit of a chat."

"I don't know if that's really necessary," Anna said feebly. God, that was the last thing she needed, to spend the entire morning worrying about what Mum was beating John with. She'd seen her in action before. She was like an interrogator for MI5. It wouldn't surprise her if she came home to find that John had cracked and confessed all about the charade of their relationship.

To her surprise, John appeared at the top of the stairs. It seemed that he had heard every word that had been said; he was pale, but there was a determined look on his face.

"Honestly, my darling, it's fine," he croaked. "You go on and get your dress fitted. Your mum and I will be fine."

The car horn honked again impatiently. Anna still didn't move, her gaze flickering uncertainly between them.

"Are you sure?" she asked him one more time. It wasn't fair to feed him to the lion's den.

"Yes, certain," he said, though he sounded anything but. "Go."

"Yes, trot off," said Mum, practically dragging her to the door. "Your John is in safe hands. See you later."

Before Anna could even open her mouth, she was over the threshold and the door had been slammed in her face.

With a sense of disquiet, she trudged down the garden path towards Cat. She opened the passenger side and slid in.

"Well, good morning to you too," said Cat. "Don't mind me, waiting out here for you like some bloody chauffeur. Wait, what's up with you?"

"Mum's what's up," Anna huffed. "She's not coming. She's keeping John in there."

"Afraid she's going to jump him?" snickered Cat, then hastily backtracked when Anna shot her a venomous glance. "Oh, honestly, it's nothing to worry about. Mum gave Tim a real grilling when I first brought him home. She banished me from the house and didn't let me back for nearly three hours. I was going stir crazy inside, and Tim looked like he wanted to cry when I saw him again, but it must have gone all right because we're still here and we're going to get married."

None of that did a thing to reassure Anna. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, Tim had had a better start than John had. He was in the same age bracket as Cat was, he was untarnished by previous serious relationships, he was athletically built and good looking. Her mum couldn't have found much to complain about. John's past didn't matter a jot to her, but she wanted her family to think well of him, even if they were not truly together.

Cat tutted. "Oh, don't spend the whole day brooding, Anna. Just let them get on with it. I can't have you going round with a face like a slapped arse on the final dress fittings. Just relax and enjoy yourself. They're putting champagne on for us. Neck a couple of those and lighten up."

Which was easier said than done, Anna thought. Still, she managed a smile and tried to think on something else.

Overall, she felt she did pretty well. The dress fitting gave her little time to ponder on John and her mum as she was poked and prodded, told to breathe in, twirl, told not to slouch, tutted at for her shortness, jabbed with pins and accosted with measuring tapes. It was a very long process. But, when the final alterations were done and she was allowed a look at herself in the mirror, she thought that she looked pretty good. Her sister had chosen dove grey dresses, strapless, which Anna supposed looked very at home in the celebrity world of fashion. Still, they were very pretty, and it _did_ suit her. She hoped that John would like it.

When the final part of the bill was settled, with the dress shop staff promising to fly the dresses over to the Riviera with the utmost care, they all departed. Anna liked the other bridesmaids, all friends of Cat's. They were all loud and bubbly, impossibly gorgeous and wild. They had made her feel very welcome, even if they were bemused by Anna's broad Yorkshire accent—they kept asking her to repeat words and mimicking her. Cat's had softened over time, influenced by the fact that she heard nothing but a French accent day in, day out for several years now.

"So, what do you want to do now?" asked Cat once they had waved the others off. "We could go and get a coffee or something."

"Actually, would you mind if we just went back to Mum's?" said Anna.

"Oh, all right," sighed Cat, then softened. "Never let it be said that I don't have sympathy for you. But we _will_ get a day out together before the wedding, you hear me, Anna?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way," said Anna, slipping her arm through her sister's. "You and me, just like the old times."

Cat grinned mischievously. "When we used to talk about boys and dreams, and you used to nearly kill me when you learned that I'd done another silly thing that Mum would probably have a heart attack over."

"I had sleepless nights for a week over your first tattoo," Anna laughed. "I did not want to be in the vicinity when _that_ one blew up."

"And I kept trying to convince you to have one too so that I'd have some solidarity…"

"Which never happened, because I hate needles. And Dad was a rubbish ally for you because one look from Mum quelled him instantly."

"And you wouldn't even get your belly button pierced to stand up in solidarity."

"Because your screaming scared the living daylights out of me."

"And you got into even more trouble than _I_ did over that because Mum was furious you'd let me do it." Cat grinned. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did," said Anna. They had. They were like chalk and cheese in some respects, but they had been inseparable in other ways, and it had been very hard indeed when Cat had moved across the continent on a permanent basis.

"But things have turned out all right for us, haven't they?" said Cat as they climbed back into the car. "Both with decent jobs, both with good men…" She shot her a side glance. "So, come on, spill the beans. John Bates: good in the sack?"

"Catherine!" Anna yelped.

Cat screwed up her face. "Don't call me that. And don't avoid the question. Mum's not here to know."

"That's not the issue. I just like to keep my private life, you know, _private_."

"Spoilsport. I told _you_ what I thought of Tim when I first shagged him."

"Which was too much information. Especially when you _rated_ all the men you'd ever shagged. Wasn't Tim number three?"

"Behind Michael Pearson and Jason Roe, but don't tell him I ever said that. He was better than Will Leighton and Max Sadler, at least, do you remember them?"

Anna tried very hard not to remember any details of her sister's sex life. It had been mortifying to learn that her baby sister was no longer a baby. She made a non-committal noise and turned to look out of the window, hoping that it would lead Cat to dropping it.

It did not.

"Come on, Anna. I bet you've told Mary!"

Mary was getting some enjoyment out of teasing her now, but Anna was quite sure that if it came down to it, her friend would definitely rather _not_ know how good the man who was almost an uncle figure to her was in bed. But she wasn't going to say that and remind her sister of the age gap between them, so she said nothing.

"Anna May Smith, if you don't stop ignoring me I'm going to tell Mum about that time you broke her favourite china teapot and never said a word!"

Anna swung back around, jaw dropping. "Oh, come on, that was years ago! I was thirteen!"

"And Mum still laments it today. It broke her heart."

She rolled her eyes, huffing, pretending to think about her options to give herself more time. She'd have to lie, of course. She had no idea what John was really like in bed. But she had fantasised about it plenty of times, and had built up her own beliefs based on the man she knew. The way that he always paid sole attention to the person he was talking to suggested that he would give them the same kind of undivided attention in a more intimate setting, which Anna was sure would make him a very good, generous lover…

"Oi! Sis! Where would you rate him?"

"Best I've ever had," she replied at last, determined to keep her gaze on the traffic ahead of them.

"Well, I suppose there isn't a really long list for him to compete with…"

Anna flashed her a rude hand gesture. "On that kind note, that's all you're getting out of me." She reached across and switched on the radio.

Cat muttered something that sounded very much like, "Boring," but she didn't say another word on the subject. They made their way back across the pretty little suburb towards their mum's house, and Anna practically flew out of the car door before it had stopped moving once they arrived. She had all manner of images in her head, and all seemed to prominently feature John fleeing the scene, unable to take any more torture. She barrelled through the front door.

"Mum? John?" she called loudly as she kicked off her shoes. "We're home!"

She sounded painfully cheerful in the hopes that it would swing things in her favour.

"In the kitchen, love!" Mum shouted back, and she almost sprinted in that direction, fingers crossed—

She stumbled through the kitchen door in her haste—hardly the most graceful of entries—and clutched at the counter as her eyes darted round frantically, looking for any John-shaped holes in the wall.

There he was. At the table with her mum, clutching a mug of tea and poring over some sort of magazine on the surface in front of him.

"Hello," he said, glancing up as she approached. "How did the dress fitting go?"

"Really well," she answered cautiously, moving further into the room. "What's going on?"

Mum sniffed. "Nothing's going on, Anna, honestly. We're simply having a nice cup of tea together."

"Your mum is showing me some of the plans she's got for redoing the interior," said John.

"How…nice," Anna managed.

"And John here is giving me some advice on how I should go about it," said Mum, and Anna was surprised to hear that not one word of it was uttered sarcastically. That was a true miracle. Mum loathed anyone trying to poke their noses into her plans for the house. She had been a nightmare back in England. If their bedrooms had ever needed decorating, Mum had always said that they could have whatever colour they wanted…provided it was the one that she had casually suggested would look nice. Cat had once wanted a violent pink. "How nice, dear," Mum had said, "but don't you think a pastel purple will look so much nicer?"

Cat had ended up with pastel purple.

"That's…wonderful," she said, moving to rub John's shoulders from behind. He gave a sigh and leaned in to her touch. It was all an act to imply sheer intimacy, but Anna's heart leapt nevertheless. She leaned over him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Purely for authenticity. John leaned his head against her shoulder—also for authenticity purposes, unfortunately—and smiled up at her. She couldn't help but return it, feeling hope well up inside her despite herself.

Mum was on the way to accepting John, it was the only explanation. And if he got Mum's seal of approval…

Maybe, just maybe, it would give him the boost he might need to move things in the right direction.


	2. II

**A/N:** Second and final part of my birthday fic for my bestie.

 **annambates** changed the dimensions of my cover pic. Thank you!

Thank you for the reviews on the first 'part'. I'm sorry I haven't had time to reply to them yet. I hope this final part does not disappoint.

The Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild is a real place, though I took liberties with describing what it looks like (it certainly looks gorgeous from the outside). I don't have any real wedding experience, so the details might not be spot on (the last wedding I attended was when I was five and all I can remember from that day is how much the flower headband thing I had on hurt...I had a displeased, scrunched up face on all of the wedding photos).

I did initially want to include the first few scenes at the end of the last chapter but I didn't think this one would be as long so I ignored my better judgement. Whoops. This is 32,500 words.

* * *

The next two days passed peacefully. Mum showed them around the town, and when Cat and Tim weren't working, they dropped by to have tea with them all. Anna and John also managed to escape by themselves for a day to explore central Paris for themselves. It was a relief to not have to be constantly aware of what they were doing, though Anna did miss the way that John held her hand so tenderly in his. Out on their own, there was no need for him to do that. If she was feeling braver, she might have dared to do it herself, but she didn't want to upset the balance between them, not at this crucial late stage.

* * *

"So, it's my hen night tonight," said Cat when she rang two days before their scheduled departure to the French Riviera.

"I thought you might have had it by now," said Anna. Being woken by her shrill ringtone at eight o'clock hadn't exactly put her in the best of moods to begin with. She snuggled further down in the duvet, wondering if she could snatch another half hour's sleep when this call was over before her mum started hollering for her to stop being lazy and get up. John would have already gone out for an early morning walk; she had watched him go once at the crack of dawn before clambering back into bed and falling straight back to sleep.

"Nah," said Cat now. "I was waiting for you to arrive, wasn't I? Can't have my hen night without my sister by my side. It's tonight. We're just going to go round the city and get absolutely rat arsed. It's my last night of proper freedom before wedding preparations take over my life completely. I intend to relish it."

"What about John?" Anna asked cautiously.

"He can go round and see Tim, if he wants, I guess."

She didn't think he would. John was polite and cordial and easily likable for the way that he always fit in with people, but by the same token he preferred not to put himself in situations where he didn't really know the people he was to socialise with. At home, he spent most of his time with her or Robert, and Anna had heard the latter complaining oftentimes about the way that John would stubbornly refuse to go out to dinner with colleagues and business executives in the most upscale of restaurants that the areas surrounding Downton had to offer.

"Well, I'm not sure I want to leave him all alone in the house," she said. "It doesn't seem quite fair. Couldn't he come along too?"

"Definitely not. It's women only. We don't want our boyfriends hanging around our necks. Besides, he won't be all alone. Mum isn't coming tonight."

"What?"

"Don't sound so surprised. You can hardly have the hen party of your dreams when your mum is skulking in the background. Bit hard to reminisce over the times you had before you were tied down, or to visit a strip club for the last time."

"Oh, God, please don't tell me that's what you have planned," Anna groaned. The last time she had been dragged to one was when she had accompanied her friend Ethel, who had immediately abandoned her to shack up with the stripper who was supposed to be entertaining them. It had not been the most pleasant of evenings, faced with so many tighty-whities in such a small, sweaty space, especially just post-breakup when everything had been so raw.

"Don't be such a grouch," said Cat. "You'll enjoy it. Besides, you'd just be window shopping. Johnny can hardly call it cheating."

"It's John, not Johnny," said Anna in exasperation. "Only his mum calls him Johnny these days, and he can't stop her because she's done it since he was a baby."

"I suppose it _is_ a bit of a young name for him, isn't it? I thought he might have liked it for that reason. Anyway, the point is, he won't be alone this evening because he'll have Mum for company!"

"Joy," Anna muttered. While their relationship had certainly thawed from the initial frostiness, it was still not one that was sailing into smooth waters just yet and she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to leave them alone for so many hours.

"You're not bailing on me, Anna May Smith. Now get your lazy arse out of bed and go and get showered. I'm taking you and Mum out for a pre-hen night breakfast. I'll be round in an hour. Be ready to go."

She cut off before Anna could open her mouth, and she groaned, throwing her phone onto the duvet and yanking it over her head. Her sister was impossible sometimes.

And also completely impossible to say no to. Before Anna knew it, the day had flown by and he was getting ready to go out for a night on the town, dressed in heels so high they made her totter, and a new cocktail dress that Cat had insisted she get for the occasion.

There was a knock on her door, and John poked his head in. When he didn't speak for several seconds, Anna shot him a quizzical glance through the mirror where she was putting the finishing touches to her makeup.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is there something wrong?"

He physically shook his head, as if he was trying to rid it of cotton wool. "No. You look fantastic."

She glanced down, a shy smile coming to her lips. "You think so?"

"Yes," he said. "All the men will be chasing after you tonight. It's a shame for you that you have to pretend to be tied to me."

"Don't say that," she protested. "I don't see it that way at all."

"Then you are far too kind." His lips twisted sardonically.

She ignored him. "And are you sure you'll be all right here with Mum? I don't mind ducking out and coming home. I don't think it'll take much at all for Cat to be too drunk to know who is with her and who isn't. I could be back in a couple of hours."

"No, honestly, it's fine. Go out there and let your hair down. I don't want to hold you back."

"You could never hold me back," she told him.

"If you say so. I'll see you downstairs in a minute."

He withdrew, and she shook her head at his back. Why did he always have to be like that, so self-loathing and self-sacrificing? Why couldn't he see what a good man he truly was?

Why couldn't he see that he was the one she really wanted?

Pointless to dwell on it, really. Either it would happen, or it would not. She could not force him to feel something that wasn't there.

She put the finishing touches to her makeup and spritzed some perfume, then headed downstairs. She had booked a taxi for eight, and would be meeting up with Cat and her friends after catching a train into the city. John had wanted to hire a car and take her there himself, since her mum couldn't drive, but she had talked him out of the idea, telling him that it was a waste of money. Though, to be fair, it probably wouldn't be much cheaper to get a taxi and a train, given the extortionate prices.

"I'll be off in a minute," she said now, poking her head round the door to the living room.

Mum sniffed. "That dress is a bit short, isn't it?"

Anna rolled her eyes. It _was_ a little shorter than she usually went for, coming to mid-thigh, but she had a feeling that Cat's would be even shorter, made so by her long legs.

"Don't you think it is, John?"

"What?" said John, quickly tearing his gaze away from below her waist.

"Don't you think Anna's dress is a bit short?"

"No," he said, though he kept his gaze firmly away from her this time.

Her mum harrumphed. "Well, what do I know about fashion these days? And I dread to imagine what Cat's got on. To think, you were the one who never gave me any trouble!"

"Oh, I can assure you, she's a devil in disguise, Mrs. Smith," said John with a grin, then seemed to realise how his words could be misconstrued in a racier fashion. His cheeks went pink and he went back to staring at a fixed point on the far wall.

Her mum didn't look impressed either. "Yes, well. Watch yourself tonight, Anna. Don't let Cat get too carried away."

"I can hardly police what she drinks," she protested. "She's twenty-six!"

"And is about as mature as a twelve year old. You're a good influence on her."

Anna highly doubted that; as children, she had hardly been able to control her. She was too strong-willed. Half of the scrapes that they had got into were because she had been unable to change Cat's mind about something. She was approaching this night out with the same trepidation that she had in the old days.

There was a honking outside.

"That'll be the taxi," she said. "See you later, Mum. Bye, John."

"Bye," he said, heaving himself out of the seat. "Let me see you to the door."

He limped after her and saw her over the threshold. She turned and, feeling her mum lurking in the doorway behind him, she leaned up to press a kiss to the very corner of his mouth. He started a little.

"See you in the morning," she murmured.

"Yes," he said, a little dazedly. "Have a nice night, Anna."

She waved at him and slid into the taxi. The journey to the train station was quick, and the route into central Paris didn't take too long, either. Cat had already made a day of it out with her friends, but she had promised to meet her at the train station so that she didn't get lost, and she was true to her word.

"There you are!" she shrieked, flinging her arms around her. Anna was pleased to see that she had not yet started drinking. "We're meeting the others at the first club. It's a good one. Come on."

She practically dragged her onto the street, Anna wobbling a little in her high heels and trying very hard not to notice the way that she could practically see up her sister's skirt as they mounted the stairs—it really was leaving nothing to the imagination. Mum would go mad if she saw it.

They emerged into the warm night and weaved their way through the other night revellers. Paris was nothing like sleepy Downton, where the entire population seemed to be abed by ten. Here, the city was teeming as if it was still the day, and Anna heard snatches of several languages that she didn't recognise as they went. One day, she resolved to herself, she would come back here for a proper break, exploring all of the places of culture and sampling the fine dining.

Hopefully she would bring John back with her.

But they were thoughts for another time. Right now, Cat had other ideas. She came to a stop outside a vibrant bar, grinning.

"Right," she said. "Rule number one: no texting that boyfriend of yours. No significant others are allowed tonight in any capacity. Tonight, we're going to see some of my last hours of freedom out in style. You ready?"

Anna thought that the answer was probably no, but she had no time to reply before Cat dragged her inside to meet the others.

* * *

Later, Anna couldn't understand why she had made such a fuss about it all. She felt bloody marvellous. On top of the world. Like she could do anything. She had already defied her sister by sneaking into the bathroom to text John. He hadn't replied, but she wasn't worried. He had probably gone to bed. They had passed the witching hour now.

Cat downed her latest drink and slammed her glass down onto the table.

"I dunno about this whole being tied down mala-malakey!" she hiccoughed to no one in particular. "I think I've changed my mind!"

"Don't be silly," said Anna. "You're marrying the man you love. What could possibly make you not want to?"

"Always having sex with the same man for the rest of time," giggled one of Cat's friends.

Cat's face twisted. "I've never thought about it like that before!"

"You've been with Tim for three years," Anna reminded her. "You haven't had sex with another man in all that time…Have you?" she added uncertainly.

"Course not!" Cat slurred, affronted.

"Well, then, what's the difference?"

"It's so…final!" she wailed. "I mean, there was always the possibility that I _might_ have sex with another man at some point. But when I get married…"

"It's a whole new adventure," said Anna. Not that she knew. "Think of it this way: you're the only woman that will know Tim intimately ever again. Isn't that sexy? That he's yours and no one else's?" It was sexy to Anna. God, if she could really have John, and know that no other woman would ever have him again…just thinking about it made her shiver.

Cat brightened. "When you put it like that…always knew you were the smart one, sis."

One of her friends said something in rapid French. Anna blinked.

"What is it?" she asked.

Cat's eyes danced with excitement. "Strip club time!"

Oh, no. This was a very bad idea. She tried to say so, but her tongue couldn't seem to form the words as she was dragged out onto the streets by the enthusiastic gang and bundled down a side street into a decidedly seedy area. A neon sign flickered. The place could not be mistaken: everything about it, from its dingy exterior to its questionable location screamed something shady. Anna pulled up short. She had never felt comfortable in these sorts of places anyway, but she didn't really want to visit one when she couldn't even speak the native language. And especially when her own native language was being strangled by alcohol.

Before she could muster up a protest, she had been pulled inside. The scent of sweat and alcohol hit her at once, and she wrinkled her nose. Gross.

The dim lights made it difficult to see, but the other women seemed to know where they were going. They made their way to the bar area and began to speak with an older woman in rapid French. She hung back while they conversed, and then followed them all to the back of the room, where a second door was hidden. She understood now. A private room for a private showing.

A half-naked waiter seemed to materialise out of nowhere, carrying a tray filled with champagne flutes. These were snatched up with sounds of excitement, and they all tottered in the direction of the large booth that ran around centre stage. Cat took the middle seat, and Anna crammed herself in next to her.

A spotlight went on. Anna screwed up her face, rather dazzled, her mouth tumbling open. _Oh_.

The other women started screaming and cheering as music started playing in the background, and the stripper who had materialised started gyrating his hips, his fingers going to his shirt. He had dark eyes in an olive face, and hair just long enough to give off the 'devil may care' attitude. He eyed up each of the women in turn, tilting his hips suggestively, before whipping off his shirt to wolf whistles. He twirled it above his head for a moment before throwing it somewhere into the room.

It was undeniable, he was utterly gorgeous. He had an eight pack, never mind a six, with muscles that popped out and a chest so smooth and gleaming that it had to have been waxed and polished. His trousers were so low on his hips that it left very little to the imagination, accentuating his trim form. The comparison came into her mind without her even meaning it to. This man couldn't be more different from John. Or how she imagined John to be, in any case. This man was a chiselled god. John had the comforting bulk of someone who was far from perfect. She knew which one she preferred. Let the others have this gorgeous specimen. She had her own hunk of a bear waiting for her at Mum's house. Well, all right, technically he wasn't hers, but the night was magical and anything was possible…

"Who wants to stuff the first five euro note down his pants?" asked one of the few remaining women who was sober enough to remember that Anna couldn't understand a word they were saying in their native language.

"N'me," said Anna.

"'M calling dibs!" said Cat. "Lemme at him!"

The shrieks and catcalls increased as she fumbled in her purse for some money, and the stripper turned around, offering his beautifully pert backside to her. Anna fumbled in her own handbag, but not for money—her fingers closed around her phone and she unlocked it with some difficulty, shooting off a cheeky, decisive text to John:

 _Want to put a fiver in your boxers. ;)_

When she was done, she put her phone away and settled back, imagining a hazy scenario where John let her into his pants.

* * *

They stumbled back up the little front path together, clutching onto each other for support. Cat started to sing some French song loudly.

"Stop making a noise!" Anna told her, her voice ringing in the silent street, and they collapsed into giggles. But she really had to be the responsible one. Mustering all of her dignity, she found the key to the front door in her bag, and aimed it at the lock. It thudded off the wood. She tried again. No cigar.

"The door's moving!" she wailed.

"Lemme do it," said Cat.

"No! I'm older!"

"You're hopeless!"

Cat made a clumsy grab for the key, and Anna made an equal clumsy duck, cracking her head against the door handle.

"Ow!" she squealed.

The door opened behind them and, since neither of them were expecting it, they fell through it together in a tangle of limbs, shrieking.

"Shh!" someone said frantically. "You'll wake the whole neighbourhood!"

Anna squinted up from her new vantage point on the floor. A large, hulking outline, that dulcet voice.

"John!" she said enthusiastically, leaping to her feet with no grace whatsoever. "What are you doing up!?"

"Your mum didn't want to go to bed until she knew that you were home safely," he said dryly. "I volunteered to do the honours. So here I am."

He _did_ look tired, his lids heavy and droopy. What time even was it?

"You are so sweet," she cooed instead, throwing her arms around him. "My big, strong man."

Cat made a deliberate retching sound in the background, but she ignored her, resting her head on his chest and looking up into his face, hoping that he could read the adoration in her expression.

"Your arms are so nice," she told him. It was information that he needed to know; those muscles felt amazing beneath her fingers.

"Thank you," he said. "Let's get you into bed."

"Please do!" she said eagerly. Now that _would_ be the cherry on top. A night spent in John's bed…she ought to show him how good that sounded. A kiss was always a good sign, right?

It was a marvellous idea. One she needed to carry out immediately.

She rose up on her tiptoes and lost her balance. They stumbled into the wall, but it didn't deter her; she closed the gap between them and planted her mouth on his.

She kissed him hungrily. God, this was perfect. She should have done this a very long time ago. His hands were on her hips, and they were pushing at them rather than pulling her further towards him, but that didn't matter. What mattered was how glorious this was, how if she pressed her tongue between his lips she could feel the tip of his own against her—

He pulled away, and she almost lost her balance again.

"You're drunk, Anna," he said, sounding caught between embarrassment and resignation. Well, that wouldn't do.

"'M'not," she said indignantly. "Am I, Cat?"

"No," Cat agreed, swaying woozily on the spot.

"You and Cat need to go upstairs and get into your bed," he said steadfastly. "I'll help you up there."

"I don't want to sleep with Cat," Anna complained. "I want to sleep with _you_. Let me into your bed, Mr. Bates." She'd show him a good time.

"Your mum wouldn't like it," he said firmly. "And I'm certainly not taking you to bed when you're drunk."

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Cat piped up. "Though the mattresses are horrible. That's how Tim and I were caught out…"

"You've told me this before," said Anna. Maybe they could use the sofa instead…

But John grabbed her elbow.

"Upstairs," he said. God, how sexy he was when he was making demands…perhaps she could suggest that he call her a naughty girl and take her over his knee…

The fantasy carried her all the way upstairs with Cat stumbling along behind them until they reached her bedroom door. Once there, John took her over the threshold and sat her down on the edge of the bed. Cat went around the other side and flopped down onto it, face first. What was she doing? She could hardly be in the room with them…

"Get into your pyjamas," said John. "I mean it. You are drunk, Anna Smith. If you need me to fetch you any water or paracetamol, then I'll be there, but don't even think about coming out of this room."

Her bottom lip popped out as she looked up at him. "Don't you like me?"

"Of course I like you," he said exasperatedly. "I like you very much."

"Then why did you stop kissing me?" she pouted.

There was something rather sad about his smile, she noted hazily. "I only like to kiss sober women. Goodnight, Anna. Goodnight, Cat. Good luck for the morning. You're going to need it."

Before she could shout him back, he had gone.

"Your boyfriend just rejected you," Cat said sleepily.

Anna wanted to retort, but before she could remember the words she needed, Cat bolted upright.

"Oh, God, I'm going to be sick," she groaned, and toppled from the room.

* * *

When Anna awoke what felt like a few hours later, her mouth was sandpaper dry and her head felt as if someone was trying to put a hole in her skull using a pneumatic drill. For long moments, she could only lie there prostrate, taking deep breaths to calm her roiling stomach. Good God, she felt awful. She should never have drunk so much. She wasn't used to doing it, and she was paying for it now.

There was a dull groaning from beside her.

"Anna, Anna, are you awake?" came a croaky voice. Cat.

"Yeah," she managed.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I want to die."

Cat made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. "Bloody good night, though, wasn't it?"

From what she could remember of it. Snatches of the night came back to her as she lay there. The drinking. The dancing. Knocking back shots. The strip club. Wishing that it was John doing the striptease for her, how much more she would have enjoyed it then…

Shit.

Sending him that text. Kissing him.

 _Shit_.

She bolted upright, and immediately wished she hadn't; her stomach recoiled. She was going to be sick. Scrabbling, she managed to fight her way from the covers and hurl herself towards the bathroom. She reached the toilet just in time.

As she was emptying the non-existent contents of her stomach into the toilet, she heard a heavy tread behind out on the landing. There was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Anna?" came John's voice. "Anna, are you all right?"

"Go away," she moaned. "You can't see me like this."

There was a pause, before the bathroom door creaked open. She didn't have the energy to turn around, still trying to decide if she was finished or not, but he took a decisive step into the room.

"I've seen worse sights," he said, and she heard him hunkering down on the floor beside her. She whipped round in alarm.

"You shouldn't do that-" she started to say, but couldn't finish as a fresh wave of sickness washed over her. She bent back over the toilet.

And then she felt the heaviness of John's hand against her as he tenderly moved her hair out of the way.

"That's it," he said soothingly. "You'll feel better when you've got it all out of your system." He rubbed her back comfortingly, and she leaned in to his bulk slightly as she took deep breaths. At last she looked up, nodding. He got back to his feet with a groan, and she flushed the toilet and washed her hands at the sink.

"Thank you," she said, a bit embarrassed. God, that must have been an attractive sight for him. It would probably put him off the idea of her for life…

But he only smiled at her. "Never thank me for that. Here, I was bringing you up some water and paracetamol when I heard you in the bathroom. And you've fared better than your sister. She's been in here four times already, and last time she got it all over the carpet on the landing. Your mum wasn't best pleased."

"I bet she was pleased cleaning that up, then," said Anna, hooking her toothbrush from the holder in the hopes that giving her teeth a scrub would rid her mouth of its grim taste.

"I did it for her. Thought it might help my cause."

"That's dedication."

She scrubbed her teeth, gargled on some mouthwash, and took the tablets that he offered her with thanks. There was a moment of awkward silence afterwards, and Anna knew that the events of the previous night were weighing heavily in his mind. Well, this was her doing. She had to face this. She took a deep breath.

"John, about last night," she started tentatively.

"Forgotten already," he said.

"I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable."

"Not at all."

"And those texts…"

"I couldn't even read most of them," he reassured her. "You were drunk, I took them with a pinch of salt. Here, look, see for yourself."

He pulled his mobile out of his pocket, and she peered at them, her heart starting to beat faster. They started out fine, reassuring him that they had arrived safely and would have a nice evening, and that she hoped that he would too. They grew progressively less legible as the night had worn on and the alcohol had taken hold, until she came to the one that she had sent him in the strip club.

 _Wanti t oul s og ger iyt I ftiyr biers l(_

Thank God for that. Even though she knew what she had intended to say, it was difficult for _her_ to translate what it meant, never mind him. She had got away with one there.

But she had also kissed him, which was less easy to gloss over…

Not that she wanted to gloss over it. Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of him confessing that he had liked it, that he wanted her to do it again…

"As for the…other thing," he said now, clearing his throat, and she focused her attention back on him quickly, "I know it didn't mean anything to you. You were drunk. I'm not going to start demanding anything of you. And it was ingenious, really. Your family is definitely not going to have any suspicions about our relationship."

"What?" she said. Her voice sounded small in the large space, in the wake of her crashing disappointment. It had meant nothing to him. It had probably just been an annoyance. From his demeanour, it hadn't had a single effect on him.

He chuckled. "You um…you kissed me last night. Do you not remember? I can't have been very memorable for you."

She forced a short, unnatural laugh of her own. "Oh, no, I remember. And I am sorry about that. You must have thought me a right idiot, pouncing on you like that." She certainly _felt_ like an idiot in the cold light of day. Why, oh _why_ , had she let her feelings get the better of her?

"What's a kiss between friends?" John joked. "It's fine, Anna, honestly. Anyway, how are you feeling? Are you up to getting up?"

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Gone dinnertime. Do you think you can stomach a sandwich? Or a piece of toast?"

Her eyes widened. "God, I had no idea it was that time! Let me get a shower. I feel grotty."

"Take your time," he said. "No rush."

"Though no doubt Mum has some grand plans for us."

"I daresay. I haven't asked her, though."

"Well, you go back downstairs and appease her for me. I'll join you soon. I think Cat is a lost cause today. She had even more to drink than me, if you can believe it."

"Very easily. It was her special night, after all."

There was another pause. Anna kept her gaze fixed on the tiles. John cleared his throat.

"Right," he said. "I'll see you downstairs."

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, sure. Thanks for the water."

"You're welcome."

She let him go, feeling the sickness in her heart much more acutely than the one in her stomach.

* * *

It was difficult to look him in the eye over the following day, but she had to swallow her disquiet and carry on as if everything was normal, just to allay any suspicions. Bit by bit, she pushed it to the back of her mind, though her humiliation sometimes sprang up on her when she was least expecting it.

Thankfully, there wasn't too much time to dwell, for the time to depart for the wedding destination had arrived, and they were flung from one chaotic moment to another as they raced about packing their things, confirming that the dresses were ready to be flown over, that the other arrangements were in order. By the time they reached the airport, Anna was utterly exhausted. She needed another holiday just to recover from the hectic last two days, but there was no chance of that with the wedding to set up. She'd be absolutely knackered by the time she went back to England.

They flew from Paris to the other side of France. Cat had already organised a hire car to take them to the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, and it seemed like another endless journey as they stored their luggage in the boot and piled inside for the last leg. Tim would be joining them on the morrow, along with his parents.

The journey to the venue was made largely in silence. Anna stared out at the passing scenery. It meant that she did not have to spend her time making small talk with John, who was being even quieter than usual, still reeling at his rejection, but even that was hard to remember in the face of the views. She simply had to marvel at them; it was gorgeous. England was beautiful, but somehow it had nothing on this. Beautiful rolling hills, vineyards, quaint little villages in the middle of nowhere, chic cities that could easily compete with the world's most beautiful. This part of France was clearly up-and-coming, the kind of place that would be frequented by celebrities. No wonder Cat had liked it so much and had decided to hold her wedding there. Anna knew that Tim's parents were fronting most of the bill, moneyed as they were, but this must be costing them an absolute fortune.

At long last, they arrived at their destination.

Anna gasped as they drew into the gateway. The Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild was _beautiful_. She'd liked it in the pictures, but it could not compare to seeing it in the flesh. The pictures could never do it justice.

"Good, isn't it?" Cat grinned, meeting her eye in the rear view mirror. "Maybe you and John will get married here someday, eh?"

"Maybe," Anna said non-committally. "I don't think we're quite ready to discuss that yet."

Cat snorted.

"Yes, leave them be," said their mum, who seemed determined not to cause more friction. "They'll get married where they want, _if_ they want. No pressure."

Anna supposed that somewhere in the back of her mind, she was hoping that it would never actually come off. Well, she would have her wish there. Feeling her heart sinking in her chest, Anna determinedly busied herself with looking out the window at the passing scenery again. The whole long driveway reminded her of a rustic great house from the past, with the neat, colourful flowerbeds and the trim lawns.

Eventually, they pulled up outside the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild. A valet was there, as was a porter, who took their luggage inside. Mum gave her instructions to the valet and pressed money into his hands. He bowed deeply.

Cat, carefree as ever, had already bounded inside after the porter. John was dithering out on the gravel, seemingly uncertain whether he wanted more of Cat's incessant chatter or her mum's scrutiny. There was nothing else for it. As much as it hurt her to do so, Anna held out her hand to him. She had to be sensible now. Put that whole hen night fiasco behind her. John did not feel that way about her, it was becoming clearer and clearer to see. But they still had a job to see out, and she did not want one stupid moment to ruin their entire friendship. She had to be the bigger person. A broken heart was more painful than a broken limb, but she had to bear it. John had not asked for this. This was her doing. She had to be professional.

"Come on," she said quietly.

After a moment's hesitation, he took her hand. God, how she loved the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers.

It was a thought she was not allowed to have. Shaking her head, she led him up the stairs and into the cool shade of the main building.

She gasped again as she took it in, and John's sharp intake of breath indicated that he, too, was awed by the beauty of it. Old paintings adorned the walls, the floorboards were a pretty dark wood, every inch of the place was polished to within an inch of its life…yes, it was wonderful. How the other half lived, Anna thought enviously. She tugged on John's hand, indicating that they should follow Cat to the check-in desk.

"Hello," Cat was saying brightly to the concierge. "The Smith party, party of four. I'm the bride."

"Smeeth," the concierge muttered, clicking a few keys on the keyboard. "Ah, oui. I have you here. For the first two nights you have three rooms, and for the last one you have two and the honeymoon suite. Correct?"

"I don't think so," Anna said, frowning.

"Course it's right," said Cat. "Or did you not expect me to have the honeymoon suite when I am a happy Mrs. Dubois?"

"No, it's not that," said Anna. "But…but where are John and I going to sleep?"

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She didn't dare look across to him to see if he had reached the same conclusion as her, though he probably had done; she wouldn't like to hazard a guess at which of them had the sweaty palm…

Cat looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "You are joking, right?"

"No," she said, her mouth dry. "I just assumed John and I would be…would be in separate rooms…"

Cat was still goggling at her as if she had just announced that she was an alien when their mum popped up behind her.

"Well, that would be ideal, of course," she said grimly. "But I thought it was a pointless endeavour. I might be able to keep you apart under my own roof, but I hardly have the same control here, do I? I know what you young 'uns are like. The moment that my back is turned, you'll go sneaking down to one another's room to spend the night together, and the other room is sitting there unoccupied. I don't have money to waste like that. So I thought I would bite the bullet and openly acknowledge that you're going to be sleeping together for the duration of your stay. I mean, I'm not naïve enough not to know what's going on back in England…"

Anna tried very hard not to look at John's face; she could see Cat smirking at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Wise move, Mum," she said. "They're still in the newest stages of a relationship, really. Probably at it at all hours."

"Catherine, that's quite enough," Mum said sharply. "There's no need for crudeness." With a real effort, she said politely to the concierge, "Which rooms are ours?"

He rattled off the numbers and informed them that their luggage had been taken ahead of them. He handed over the keys. Cat distributed them. Anna glanced down at hers. Suite four, floor three.

"Thank me later," Cat muttered. "Yours is on a different floor. You don't want her hanging around outside your room all night. That would be a mood kill."

Anna forced the smile that was expected of her, then turned to John.

"Well," she said, in a voice that wasn't quite steady, "let's go, love."

He nodded, apparently mute, and limped after her, the sound of his cane loud on the floorboards. Mum did not look too pleased with the prospect either, but she did not say another word as she followed them to the lifts.

They parted on the third floor. Anna was pleased to leave the oppressive silence behind, and she didn't think she could take another one of Cat's gleeful grins. Wordlessly, they trudged down the corridor, coming to a rest beside the door to the room that would be theirs for the next few days. The porter was still waiting. John fumbled in his pocket for some money, and she left them with a _merci_.

At last, they were alone.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, John swore.

"Not what you had in mind?" Anna quipped feebly, even as her heart sank even lower. Talk about this being a kick in the teeth. He couldn't even mask his disappointment at being stuck in the same room with her. A room that had, once again, just the one bed. Talk about rubbing salt into the wounds.

"Not really," he said. "I was certain your mum would have booked us separate rooms after all the fuss at her home."

"I thought she would have too," Anna admitted. "But we can make the best of it, can't we?" Even if the best of it was simply lying on the very edge of the bed and pretending that the other one wasn't there.

John softened at once. "Of course we can. And it's not like we haven't had practice now, right?"

"Right," she agreed, cracking a smile. "Shall we get unpacked?"

They went about it together, putting their toiletries in the bathroom—Anna's stomach did a stupid, funny quiver at seeing their products together like that—and then hung their clothes in the wardrobe. When they were done, Anna checked her watch.

"We'd better get in the shower," she said. "Mum and Cat will want to meet us for something to eat."

"All right," said John. "You go first."

He settled himself on the bed and reached for the remote. Anna stifled a reluctant smile. Men and their TVs. She left him there, absorbed in a football match. She took her time in the shower, towelled herself off, and reached for a gown to hide her nakedness while she returned to the bedroom. John was still exactly where she'd left him.

"What's the score?" she asked.

"Two one to Paris Saint Germain," he replied.

Anna watched the progress of the ball. It must have been a clever move, for the commentator's voice went up several octaves. "And you can follow it okay?"

"I know bits and pieces of French," he said airily.

Anna stared. "I didn't know that!"

"Yes. Dutch, French, a tiny bit of German and Italian…I picked it up while I was in the army."

"That's amazing!" she said. "I wish you'd told me earlier! You could have given me some French lessons! I come over here and I always feel guilty that they always have to pander to my language."

He chuckled. "Oh, I don't know enough to be a teacher. I told you, I have a rudimentary understanding. I could get by here if I had to, but other than that…"

Anna hummed. John could speak a little of several languages. That thought was _hot_. She could just imagine him now, talking to her in a different language in that sexy Irish lilt. Her toes curled just thinking about it.

Which was dangerous, forbidden territory.

"Anyway, the bathroom is clear," she said. "You'd better get in now. Mum will only wonder what we're doing if we're late, and Cat will be impossible."

"Right," said John, hastily turning off the TV. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

He gathered his things and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her staring after him, wondering what other qualities he had hidden beneath that exterior that gave absolutely nothing away.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were ready to go. Such was their timeliness that they were the ones waiting for the others.

They had a pleasant dinner together before Cat stretched.

"I'd better get an early night," she said. "The wedding preparations begin in earnest tomorrow. The whole hotel will start filling up with guests. And Tim's arriving tomorrow with his relatives. I need to look like I'm in charge for the benefit of dear Aileas. You know what exacting standards my dear mother-in-law has."

"I think I'll head up too," said Mum. "Coming, you two?"

Anna glanced at John. "I think I'll have one more drink, and then retire. We'll see you at breakfast."

"There's always room service," said Cat, smirking.

"Catherine, that's enough," said Mum, pink-faced. "Well, I'll say goodnight."

"Sleep tight," said Cat.

"Goodnight," they muttered in unison, then watched Cat saunter away.

"What do you say, give them five minutes?" said John.

"Yes," said Anna, pleased that they were on the same wavelength. "It'll give them time to get away, spare us the accusatory glances from Mum and Cat's unbearable smugness. She's going to be a nightmare tomorrow."

"Stick close to your mum," John suggested. "I don't think she'll dare to say too much there."

"Don't put it past her. You've seen what she's been like over this past week."

They clock-watched the five minutes away, then left the restaurant behind. With every step they took, Anna's heart began to beat a little faster. She was going to be spending the next few nights alone with John. All right, so nothing was going to happen, but it didn't mean that she couldn't be frightened and exhilarated and needy about it. The moment had been so fleeting in that hotel in Paris; maybe over the next few days she would be afforded more of a chance to study him…

Her musings carried her all the way to the door. John fumbled with the key card and let them inside. It clicked locked behind them.

"Shall I use the bathroom first?" he said.

"Be my guest."

He nodded, grabbed his things, and disappeared. She wandered round the room, drawing the blinds on their spectacular view of the gardens, dimming the lights. When John returned, she gathered her things together and ducked past him. She couldn't help but glance behind her, lingering on his shoulders in that tight t-shirt. God, he looked spectacular. She wanted nothing more than to rip it off and discover what lay underneath—

Not a good move, though, really, she thought firmly to herself, not after the last disaster—but it distracted her all through her own nightly grooming activities.

By the time she'd finished, John was already in bed and the room was in darkness. She felt her way to her side and slipped under the covers, sucking in an inadvertent breath at the feel of his heavy bulk beside her. They weren't touching, but knowing that he was there, inches away, within touching distance…

"Goodnight," he said gruffly.

"Night," she managed. She lay in the darkness for a very long time, not moving, staring at the wall.

From the way that John wasn't snoring beside her, she wagered that he was doing exactly the same.

* * *

She awoke sometime in the night, shivering. It took several seconds for her to place herself in the luxurious French bedroom. Snores rang out from beside her, indicating that John had, at last, succumbed to slumber. She turned her head slightly, squinting to make out his outline beside her, before her sleepy mind wondered what had woken her in the first place.

A low humming came from the air conditioning unit. It was that that had disturbed her, blowing cold air into the room. Why had it started off automatically?

Muttering a few choice words to herself, Anna slipped out of bed and stumbled over to where the unit was. She did not want to put on a light and risk waking John, so she felt her way over the buttons blindly, experimentally pushing them in the hope that she would find one that would cut off the wretched blast of air. Nothing was forthcoming. In fact, she only succeeded in making it worse; the icy blast hit her full in the face. She wrapped her arms around herself as she retracted back on her heels. There was nothing else for it. She'd simply have to put up with it.

She crept back to the bed and slipped back under the covers. It wasn't much warmer here. She shivered for a few more minutes before she glanced over her shoulder, chewing at her lip. Did she dare…?

She did. She couldn't abide being cold in bed.

Very slowly, she rolled onto her other side so she was facing John's broad back. She shuffled over the mattress, heaving a sigh as she felt the heat emanating from him. She wasn't quite touching him, but it was very difficult to resist.

Too difficult.

With a defeated sigh, Anna pushed herself up against his back, finally relaxing as his heat washed over her. Part of her wondered if this was a bad idea, touching him when he was none the wiser, but she knew deep down that he wouldn't mind. He wouldn't want her to be cold.

As if he knew that she was thinking about him, John began to stir.

"Anna?" he slurred. "'S'matter?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "The air conditioning is playing up. Do you mind if I huddle up with you? I'm freezing."

"No, 's'fine," he muttered, not really seeming to register her words. But she felt happier now that he had confirmed it for her, and pushed herself as close as she could. God, he felt wonderful. It almost felt like she had immersed herself in a hot bath. The feel of his body against hers was indescribably soft and welcoming and she buried her nose against him and breathed in the scent of his skin.

She was getting in over her head, she knew that. It was intimate and vulnerable, would only open her heart further to things that she could not have.

She could not stop herself.

It seemed that John had already drifted back off to sleep; his snores became her lullaby once more. Anna closed her eyes too and let sleep claim her as she relaxed into the shape of his body.

* * *

She awoke the next morning to sunlight flooding the room…and her body wrapped around John Bates'. She blinked a few times, trying to marry up this new sleeping arrangement with the events of last night, and couldn't help smiling to herself despite the unrest in her heart. This felt very nice indeed, that could not be denied. Her right arm was draped over his belly, perilously close to his silk boxer shorts. Her cheek was pressed tight to his shoulder. His scent was one of the most intoxicating things she had ever smelt, warm and masculine. She wasn't brave enough to breathe in deeper, but she wanted to. God, she did.

"Good morning."

His gruff voice made her jump. She scrambled back from him, wincing when she hit the freezing cotton on her side of the bed, suddenly very aware of the position that she had been caught in. He had said it was all right yesterday, but what if he regretted it in the cold light of day? It was unlikely that he would want her draped all over him like that.

John rolled onto his back, turning his head slightly so that he could see her. To her immense relief, she saw that he was smiling.

"Sleep well?" he asked, without any trace of awkwardness. That was not in line with some of his other behaviour this week. Why did he have to be so confusing? Why did he continually send her mixed messages?

Now was not the time to dwell on it.

"Better than I would have done if you hadn't let me cuddle up with you," she said. "Though I _am_ sorry that I asked you that. I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable."

"Not at all," he said. "You kept me warm as well."

"Have you been awake long?"

"Half an hour or so."

Half an hour. He had been lying there with her for half an hour, with her arms drooped over his body and her head resting against his shoulder.

"You should have woken me," she said. Wasn't that what any normal person would have done?

"I thought you were peaceful. Now, what was the problem last night?"

"I couldn't get the air conditioning to turn off," she explained. "It came on all by itself."

"Let me have a look," said John. Anna watched, disappointed, as he slid out of bed and padded across the room. Already she missed his presence in the bed beside her.

Though this new view was fair compensation. His shoulder blades flexed as he reached up to prod the unit himself, and his t-shirt rose up at the back, giving her a very tantalising view of the flesh just above his backside…

After a few seconds, John turned around with a frown. She tried not to let her gaze flicker to the beginning of chest hair that she could see in the vee of his shirt, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"No luck?" she said.

"Bloody thing's broken," he huffed. "That's five star luxury for you."

"We'll have to report it," she mused. "I'm sure they'll fix it for us. John?"

For he was wearing a strange look on his face, something caught between fear and recklessness. It was an odd combination on the face of someone who was always steadfast and safe.

"Maybe we don't have to bother them just yet," he said slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're only here for two more nights. I'm sure it'd be better for them to fix it when there's no one staying in this room, especially when they're going to have all on helping to organise this place to Cat and Tim's specifications."

"What, so we tell them about the problem after we've checked out?" Anna clarified, not quite sure what to make of that. What would they achieve?

He made a non-committal noise, simply looking at her.

"But it would be cold at night," she said.

"Well…was doing what we did last night very bad?"

She stared at him. His face was a bit shiny, as if he had started sweating. "You mean we could huddle up for warmth again over the next two nights?"

"Is it a horrible idea?" he said anxiously.

It was hardly an appropriate one, she thought to herself. A strange one. She'd thought that he had made it quite plain to her when he had refused to discuss the matter of the kiss that he was her friend and nothing more. Friends hardly went around spooning each other. And yet…

And yet it wasn't like she didn't want them to be _more_ than friends. If given the chance, she'd do that with him every night. The fact that it was _him_ who was making the suggestion implied that perhaps he had just been spooked by the fact that she had kissed him, that perhaps he did have feelings for her, just needed to explore them at his own pace. That perhaps there was more to this whole messed up fake relationship than met the eye.

It was a chance too juicy to pass up.

"All right," she whispered. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Really?"

She nodded, trying to keep her voice casual. "It makes sense. And you're like a human hot water bottle. I've never been so toasty in my whole life."

He chuckled. "I am more than happy to be of service, then."

"Great. Glad that's sorted."

There was a slightly awkward pause for a moment, before John cleared his throat. "I'm going to head for the shower. We've got a full day ahead of us."

Anna groaned. "God, don't remind me. I hope you're ready for the chaos. Mum is going to be an absolute nightmare, and I've no doubt that Mrs. Dubois is going to be exactly the same. They'll work us like Trojans today."

"She's just excited," said John. "It's not every day her daughter gets married. Wait until it's your turn."

"She'll be waiting a while, then," she said. "I'm still waiting for the right man to come along and declare his hand."

"I'm sure he will. One day." John would not look at her. She wasn't sure if it was because he had realised what she was inferring and did not want to acknowledge it, or if he had simply not picked up on the double entendre of her words. But now was not the right time to try to push.

"Go," she said. "We'll have to hurry if we want to make breakfast."

He nodded, and limped towards the bathroom. Anna lay back in the pillows, wondering.

* * *

They had breakfast with Cat and Mum, then began the day's work. Anna moved from room to room, supervising the progress that was coming along on the wedding preparations. Chairs were moved in to the cavernous room they would be married in. Outside, tables of flowers and lights were put up. A platform for the band was erected. It all looked so delicate and chic.

The Dubois family arrived just before lunch.

"We were delayed!" Anna caught Mrs. Dubois saying to Cat, disgruntled. "We should have been here in the early hours. Now, let me see what you have been doing. Ah, no, this is not right. We must start again…"

Mrs. Dubois' meddling meant that Anna barely caught a glimpse of John all day. He seemed to have been tasked with the supervision of the outside area, and he was throwing himself into it with a gritty determination, clearly hoping to impress. It boded well that Mum trusted him enough to do it, especially with how picky Mrs. Dubois seemed. It boggled her mind that she could be _more so_ than her own mum.

They took a very quick break for afternoon tea at three o'clock, scarfing sandwiches standing up while supervising the bedecking of the marquees in pink and dove grey. Cat disappeared for an hour to oversee the arrival of the dresses. Then there were the reconfirmations of the meals, the procession of the endless crates of alcohol as they were taken down to be chilled, the poring over the seating arrangements to make last minute tweaks…By the time the day was over, Anna was exhausted. She was quite sure that after dinner, she would crawl into bed and not know a thing until the next morning.

They went back to their rooms and changed, then headed back to the restaurant. Even dinner was not undisturbed, however. Every few minutes they were interrupted by more guests arriving for the big day tomorrow, who offered congratulations and exclamations of excitement for what would be the start of a new chapter.

Mary and Robert arrived near eight o'clock. In all of the excitement and drama of the last few days, Anna had almost completely forgotten that they would be there. Mary looking disgruntled, but Robert looked in his element, dragging his case behind him and wearing the most hideous of hats that he must have picked up on his travels. He had caught a tan, but Mary was decidedly pink, as if she had burned in the sun. It wasn't her best look.

"Bates, my man!" Robert roared cheerfully, clapping John on the back. "How are you?"

"Fine," said John, looking mildly embarrassed.

Anna stood to embrace Mary. "How was the trip?"

"Absolutely hideous," she replied, not even cracking a smile. "Spending a week with Papa was almost enough to kill me. He wanted to explore every single nook and cranny and seemed to think that it was a good idea to try and improve his French. One woman slapped him, so I have no idea how he managed to offend her. I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I almost wish that I'd brought Edith."

It must have been bad for her to admit to that. Not that Robert seemed to have realised that his daughter had hated his company so much. He was still smiling benignly around at everyone.

"Ah, so this is your best friend, is it?" said Mum beadily. Anna pulled away from Mary to watch, feeling suddenly apprehensive. There was no time to communicate anything with Robert. She hoped that he wouldn't say anything that would be too damning. He was unreliable at the best of times.

Thankfully, she needn't have worried.

"Is that what he said?" Robert beamed. "You sentimental dog, you." He clapped John on the shoulders again, all affectionate and macho.

"He saved your life?"

Robert's expression flickered a little. "Well, John doesn't like me to talk about that, do you, old boy?"

John made a noise in the back of his throat.

"But yes, you're right," Robert continued. "I owe my life to John Bates. He acted without a care for his own safety. He's the reason I made it home and watched my family grow up. He's the best of men. And I know your Anna knows just how lucky she is to have John."

Anna's heart leapt at Robert's glowing testimonial, and she couldn't have been more grateful to him. "That's right, I do." She nudged Robert out of the way so that she could lean in to stroke his cheek. John's eyes slid closed as she lingered, relishing the feel of his skin beneath her fingers. His stubble prickled her fingers, a stark contrast to the softness of his cheek. Mary smirked in her periphery. Robert looked like he had something teasing to say right on the tip of his tongue. She ignored them both. She would not allow them to give the game away.

"Right, well," said Mum, sounding slightly mollified. "Lovely to meet you. I'm sure we'll see more of you tomorrow. John, why don't you go and help them up to their rooms? I'd quite like a little time with my daughters while they're both still Smiths."

"Of course," said John, dipping his head. He glanced up at her. "I'll see you back at the room, love."

Anna glowed at the term of endearment, leaning down to let him kiss her cheek. God, he smelled so good, and his lips were warm and perfect against her cheek, the hint of stubble scratching her making her shiver. Reluctantly, she stepped away from him, and she watched him go with their friends in tow. No doubt he would be in for some serious mocking once they were out of earshot. She hoped they'd go easy on him, that they wouldn't make him draw back into himself. She liked that he had been a little bit more daring over the last day. He never would have kissed her earlier in the week, even if the kiss had just been a peck on the cheek.

Once they were alone, Mum's eyes softened.

"My babies," she said, sounding a little choked. "My two darling babies."

"Oh, God, here we go," Cat muttered.

Mum ignored her. "I remember what it was like to hold you both in my arms that first time. My little Anna May Smith, six pounds in total. Your dad was the proudest man alive to have a daughter. And you were such a daddy's girl. Wouldn't let him out of your sight."

It hadn't changed as she'd got older, Anna remembered; in her mind, there had been no place safer than her dad's arms. She had been so sure that he would always be there to protect her from the big, bad world, but that had turned out to be an untruth.

"You were such a good baby," said Mum, her eyes misting over. "You only ever cried when you were hungry. I could do so much work around the house and I never had to knock off to see to you." She turned to Cat. "And then we had you two years later, Catherine Elizabeth. Your dad was pleased as punch all over again. 'Two little girls', he used to say to me, like there couldn't be a greater gift on earth. You _have_ been the greatest gifts on earth, both of you. Even if you were total opposites growing up. They do say that you don't get two the same, but I didn't realise just how true that was until we had you both. Cat, you were a little nightmare at times. Always screaming for attention, refusing to be left alone for even a minute. And don't even get me started on when you were a tot. Anna was the angel, you were the devil."

"Oh, cheers," said Cat grumpily. "I thought you were supposed to be saying nice things to me on the night before my wedding? Not making me out to be some kind of hellion."

"You _were_ one," Mum shot back. "Do you know how many sleepless nights you gave both me and Dad when you were a teen? Far too many. What with the boys and the piercings and that awful tattoo…"

"Oh, please, stop," Cat said sarcastically. "Any more and my head won't fit through the door."

Anna snorted.

Mum ignored them both. "If you'd let me finish, you'd see what I'm getting round to saying. This: you might have been like chalk and cheese, but I loved you both fiercely. _Love_ you both fiercely. You are both my world. I am so glad that you're both happy. And you've both done me proud. Never question that. Catherine, you and Tim have a wonderful relationship, and I'm glad that you found each other. Tim is a wonderful man, and I know that he will make a wonderful husband and father."

"Mum," Cat groaned. "That's enough."

"What? I'm simply saying. You don't want kids now, but maybe you'll change your minds in a few years."

"Not likely," Cat said. "You're going to have to pin your hopes on Anna."

"I was just getting to you, Anna," said Mum, turning to her. Anna stiffened. Was she in for yet another lecture on John's unsuitability?

She was pleasantly surprised.

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy," she said. "And I _can_ see that John makes you happy. I am honest enough with myself to know that I've never seen you happier than I have over these past few days. Cat has found her true love, and I want you to do the same. And I think that it just might be John. I hope that one day I will have the same privilege to sit here on the eve of your wedding and give you a blessing for the future."

Anna felt tears in her eyes. She blinked them away. Acceptance. That was all she'd wanted. And now she'd got it.

Acceptance for a man who had never been hers in the first place. In a few weeks, she would have to announce to them that their 'relationship' was over and go back to the way that had been before. What a bloody mess. They had acted their parts well. Oscar-worthy performances. Though, truthfully, how much of it was really acting? None of it on her behalf. Before last night, she might have said everything on John's. But since then…she kept catching glimpses of what she thought was real. What she _hoped_ was real. That he too might share the feelings that she had deep inside. It was confusing, heady, exhilarating…

Maybe she would be brave. When this holiday was over, maybe she would be brave enough to ask him if he wanted to try it for real.

That was a worry for another day.

"Thank you, Mum," she said now, touched.

"You're welcome. Just…just at least consider making your children Protestant, all right? All those strange Catholic rituals are just unfathomable. I mean, what's that Confirmation thing all about? Children choosing their own names, I ask you."

"John never bothered," Anna pointed out. "He doesn't have a middle name. Besides, we've gone over this already. John wouldn't make any demands."

"And his mother?"

"His mother has seen enough not to care." If she had accepted prison, divorce, alcoholism, and Atheism, it was unlikely she'd care about something as trivial as what religion hypothetical children were christened as.

And there she was again, getting ahead of herself. It was dangerous. Best steer the conversation away from there while she could.

"Don't you think you ought to turn in for the night?" she said to Cat. "Mary's granny would be fond of telling you that if you look tired tomorrow, it will either mean that you're anxious or you've been up to no good."

Cat snorted. "Tim and I have been up to no good plenty of times before, so I'm not worried about that. Although his mum is being such an old dinosaur. She's kept him well out of my way. I haven't seen him since he arrived. You'd think that I'd be permitted to kiss him one more time as a Smith, but it's not happening. Mum probably agrees."

"I'd prefer not to know anything about your private life," she sniffed.

Cat only grinned. "I'll try and remember that. And on that note, I'm going to head off to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Don't be late to breakfast, Anna. We've got a very full day ahead of us."

"As if I would be," said Anna, standing to hug her fiercely. "Enjoy your last evening as a free woman."

Cat waved, and bounced away. Anna and her mum finished their drinks and decided to call it a night too. Anna bid her a goodnight in the elevator and made her way to her bedroom. She swiped the card and let herself in. John was already in bed, though the lights were still on; he was reading. He gave her a soft smile when she entered.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Mum was just getting a little sentimental."

"Bless her."

She frowned at him, suddenly registering where he was lying: on the wrong side of the bed. The one that they had decided was hers.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"I thought we might sleep this way tonight," he said. "Me holding you, like we talked about this morning. Unless you'd rather not? Because I would hate for you to feel pressured into anything that you didn't want. You won't hurt my feelings if you tell me where to go."

Anna's heart beat very fast in her chest. Falling to sleep in his arms was one of her most closely guarded fantasies. How she would even sleep a wink was beyond her. But there was only one answer she could give him.

"I'd like that," she said quickly. "I can't deny that you'll keep me toasty."

He smiled at her nervously.

"I'm just going to get ready for bed. I won't be long."

"I'll wrap up my reading."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, it's fine. We've got a packed day ahead of us."

She nodded, then gathered her things together. She was ready five minutes later, and slipped into bed beside him. There was an awkward moment when neither of them moved or looked at each other, but then John turned off the lamp and they were plunged into darkness. For a moment, Anna's heart was in her mouth, waiting for him to make the next move.

His bulk made contact with her back. He wrapped a thick arm around her middle and pulled her back against him, moulding the shape of his body to hers. Anna closed her eyes, holding her breath, focusing on the sheer perfection of the moment. This had never felt so good. She had shared beds before, but not one moment could compare to this, with John Bates' solid weight against her, so heavy and reassuring. So warm. So right. His chin rested on the crown of her head, his breath ruffling against her and making the back of her neck prickle. He still smelled so good, that same heady musk that she was beginning to crave. The moment felt so surreal that she felt that she could twist in his arms, kiss him, and find that everything lined up just how she wanted it to.

She didn't dare.

"Goodnight," she whispered into the darkness.

"Goodnight," John replied, tone husky. Was he having the exact same thoughts as she was?

The room fell silent, apart from the whirring of the air conditioning. The room was freezing, but inside, Anna burned. Oh, how she burned.

* * *

The morning found them still gloriously tangled together. Anna blinked open her eyes sleepily, closed them, then opened them again. Warm light streamed in through the chink in the curtains. She could hear birds cheeping in the early morning. The air conditioning unit still hummed, letting her know that it had not given up its determined fight to freeze her. She couldn't care less. Because she was trapped in this perfect moment with the man of her dreams. He was still snoring behind her, his face buried somewhere in her hair, his arm draped around her middle. His hairy legs were caught up with her own, and she shivered when she moved her own just slightly. She sighed, turning her face further into her pillow. This was glorious. She could not remember having a better morning than this one. She was going to lie here and enjoy it for as long as possible, imagining what he might look like in slumber, possibly even drifting again to the sound of his snores. She was quite sure she could manage it, even with something unusually hard pressing in to her lower back.

Something hot and hard…

Her eyes snapped open fully as she realised just what it was.

Oh, dear. _That_ was certainly something she had not been expecting.

Now she was paralysed for an entirely different reason. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up now, but it was going to be almost impossible to extract herself from his arms without disturbing him. For a moment, she was wracked by indecision. But the overriding thought was that she had to get out and save his dignity. Very, very carefully, she began to lift his arm—

The trill of John's phone alarm started up. Anna froze in place. _Shit_.

Time seemed to be suspended for a single, painful moment as John stretched and sighed behind her, burying his nose further in to her hair.

He stiffened.

And yelped, scrambling back from her as if he'd been scalded, his cheeks flooding with mortified heat. He almost fell out of the other side of the bed, such was his eagerness to put as much distance between them as he could.

"Anna," he said, and her heart broke over how horrified he sounded, "God, I am so, so sorry. Jesus, I never thought—I didn't—I would never expect—"

"It's all right," she tried to reassure him, but it seemed that he couldn't hear her.

"You must be disgusted. I can't apologise enough. But I swear to you, I never would have made any demands. God, you must think me nothing but an awful old perve, luring you into this position solely to get into your knickers—"

"Of course I don't think that," she protested.

"—You must hate me now—"

That did it. She couldn't let him think that she hated him, when the exact opposite was true.

"John!" she said loudly. "Will you stop your self-hating tirade for just one moment so I can get a word in edgeways!?"

That silenced him, though he kept his gaze directed at the duvet, apparently too filled with self-disgust to meet her eyes. She sighed, and carried on more gently, "It's not a problem. Really. I'm not just saying it. These things happen. It's not a big deal."

Though it _had_ felt like a big deal. She coughed to cover the hysterical bubble of laughter that was building in her chest.

John's eyes flickered up towards her uncertainly. "It's not?"

"Course not," she said as dismissively as she could. "Now stop beating yourself, or I'll smack you myself." She took a deep breath. "In fact, I'm rather flattered.

"Flattered?" he echoed cautiously.

"Yes. It's better than you running from the bed screaming after seeing me first thing in the morning. I must look an awful fright."

"You could never look a fright," he said softly, then closed his mouth.

It didn't matter. Her words seemed to have done the trick. Bit by bit, he shuffled further towards her, until he was lying beside her on his back, looking up at the ceiling. They were no longer touching, but Anna rejoiced in her victory. Regrettably, this moment could not last forever.

"I'll have to get going soon," she sighed.

John chuckled hoarsely. "Only a woman could stretch a wedding day out from the crack of dawn when she isn't even getting married until mid-afternoon."

Anna wriggled out of his arms to prod him indignantly in the chest. "Excuse me! What about men and their pathetic need to have mad stag parties that nearly invariably end in the groom being stuck at the other side of the country hours before his wedding, all in the name of enjoying one last mad night of freedom!?"

"You wound me," said John. "If I was getting married—again—then I wouldn't have a need for such a party. I'd spend the entire time mooning like a fool that I had been lucky enough to end up with a beautiful woman who didn't mind being stuck with a man like me."

"Maybe I'll see this for myself one day," said Anna. "I won't believe it until I see it."

The words lingered between them, heavy with hope and expectation. John broke it by stretching out.

"You'd better go," he said. "Your mum and sister will be waiting for you."

"Aren't you coming?"

"Ladies only, remember? The bridesmaids and the mothers. Unless you want me to try and blag my way in with a falsetto voice and a dress that's bursting at the seams…"

"All right, all right, I get it, no need to be smart. I'll be coming back here for a shower after, so I'll see you then."

"Yes, you will. I can't promise to be awake, though. I, unlike you, am afforded the luxury of a lie-in…"

"Arse," she said, smacking him. "I hope you freeze."

He laughed. "Well, you did a wonderful job of keeping me warm yesterday. I shall miss that about you."

She had no retort to that. Rolling her eyes one more time, she slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom to change into a loose hoodie and a pair of jeans. She couldn't swear to it, but she was almost certain that John's eyes followed her out of the room in appreciation.

The hotel had laid on an expensive champagne breakfast. All of the women had already started drinking, sampling everything going. Anna spent the time with her family, reminiscing about some of their adventures together, and being regaled in turn by some adventures Cat had had that Anna would rather not know about.

After a shower, she bid goodbye to John to head to the bridal suite. John had already got his suit sorted. He would spend a leisurely morning with Robert before heading inside to change. He would meet Anna at the foot of the stairs before the wedding was about to start, just so he could say hello.

The time seemed to fly by. Between them all getting their hair and makeup done, with the champagne still flowing and the stories getting wilder, there wasn't a minute to spare. Too soon, Anna was stepping into her bridesmaid dress along with the other two that Cat had chosen. Her mum was already ready, dressed in pale lavender with a huge hat. Cat had been taken into the room next door for her fitting so that everyone would get the immediate wow factor.

"Now, Mum, don't start crying," she warned them through the door. "You'll only ruin your makeup and that would be a disaster at this late stage."

"I won't," Mum sniffed; tears had already begun to accumulate.

"Drumroll, please!" yelled one of the other women. Laughing, they all complied.

Cat stepped into the room. Everyone gasped. Despite what she'd promised herself, Anna felt tears in her own eyes.

Cat looked _beautiful_. Her hair had been done in elaborate curls which fell down her back. Her wedding dress was the traditional white, tight at the waist and flaring from there, little diamantes studded into the bodice. The dressing woman was just affixing her veil while another fussed around the bottom of the dress.

"Wow," was all Anna could manage. "You're going to knock Timeo's socks off."

Cat looked uncharacteristically shy. "I hope so."

Anna moved forward and carefully embraced her.

"I'm so proud," she whispered into her neck.

"Christ, don't you start," Cat replied, sounding decidedly wobbly. "I was prepared for Mum, but not for you. If you make me ruin my makeup, I'll swing for you."

Anna laughed and pulled away. "Fair enough."

Mum stepped forward to have a moment with her then, and she was quite sure that there wasn't a dry eye in the room as she told her that their dad would be so happy if he could see her there today.

And then it was time for the wedding ceremony.

They all descended together, joyous once more, and Anna felt a shiver of anticipation in her stomach that went beyond the coming ceremony.

John was going to see her in her bridesmaid dress.

It was a fantastical notion, really, that he might fall at her feet when he saw her, realise that he had loved her all along, decide that he simply had to fight for her. And yet it was one that she could not shake off. There was something magical about weddings. Like anything was possible, as long as love was involved.

There he was, at the bottom of the staircase, standing alone. He looked very dapper, dressed in a smart black suit, bowtie knotted neatly, a boutonniere pinned smartly to him. Even with his cane, he seemed even taller than usual, and Anna's heart fluttered. The party started down the stairs towards him.

His mouth fell open, and her heart soared. His eyes had found hers, and he wasn't looking away. She maintained his gaze as she descended the stairs, wondering what he was thinking. It surely had to be good. That look of wonder couldn't mean anything else.

As they reached the bottom step, John finally managed to tear his gaze away from her.

"You look beautiful," he said to Cat. Anna could tell that he was sincere, but even then it was nothing more than a cursory onceover before his gaze came back to her at once. She smiled shyly, glancing down.

Her eyes shot back up when he put his arm around her.

"And you…" he murmured. "Wow. God, Anna, you look gorgeous."

He brought her close and kissed her temple lingeringly. Anna tingled all over, squeezing him tight in return. Her heart felt twice its usual size. He thought she was gorgeous.

Behind them, Mum cleared her throat, though there was a fond smile playing about her lips.

"That's enough," she said. "We've got a wedding to attend."

"And I'm more than ready to see my future husband," Cat added.

John chuckled, embarrassed. "You're right. Good luck."

Anna nodded, and watched him walk away for a moment before turning back to her sister.

"Let's do this, then," she said, and Cat grinned.

* * *

The reception was in full swing.

After the ceremony, they had all sat down to a luxurious five star meal out in the beautiful gardens, served by beautiful French men. The father of the bride speech had been poignantly missing, so Anna had stepped up to make one in their dad's stead. She had tried not to rehearse it too much, and had simply let it come from the heart. The best man speech had left everyone in stitches, and the groom's speech had been heartfelt and lovely. At that moment, John's hand had slipped beneath the line of the table and found hers. Anna had tried not to read too much into that, but it was difficult.

The opening dances had followed. Everyone had gathered around to watch Mr. and Mrs. Dubois take to the floor for the first time as man and wife, and then Anna had been claimed by Pierre, as tradition dictated. Anna had caught a brief glimpse of John's face during that time, and he looked rather disheartened. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not. Still, as soon as it had been polite to do so, she had escaped back to his side, and lead him away to one of the now vacated tables so that they could sit and chat together.

The alcohol was flowing, and the dancing had begun with earnest now that the first dance had been acknowledged. Mr. and Mrs. Dubois were leading the way, Cat's head resting on Tim's shoulder as they slow danced. For once, Anna was perfectly content where she was, sitting on the sidelines with the man she loved.

At some point during the dancing, he had slipped his arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to his side. She knew that he would say that it was all part of a convincing act, but she wasn't so sure. All week she had been teetering on the edge of the belief that he had feelings for her too, and now, since that moment this afternoon when she had read so much in his gaze, she was finally almost one hundred percent certain that she was right. And then that had been that look in his eyes when she had danced with Pierre, almost jealousy. She sighed, leaning back against his shoulder.

"You okay?" he murmured.

"Yeah," she exhaled. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"It was a beautiful ceremony, wasn't it?"

"It was."

It had been, one of the most beautiful afternoons she had ever experienced. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch. There had been a sacred silence in that room as those two people had promised their lives to each other, and Anna had found John's gaze as she stood behind Cat holding Tim's ring, and held it. Hoping.

"I thought you might have been dancing the night away instead of stuck here with me," said John idly.

She shrugged. "You're supposed to be my boyfriend. Even then, I could never think one moment spent with you is me being stuck. I love your company. I'd much rather be here with you than out on the dancefloor being groped by some sweaty bloke. But I fully expect a dance with you later, Mr. Bates." She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from adding that groping from _him_ would be enthusiastically welcomed.

"I don' know about that. I'm hardly dancing material, especially with the cane."

"I'll support you," she told him. "I happen to be a very good dancer."

"I know," he said, eyes crinkling. "I've seen you dance many times before. It's not that that I'm worried about."

"Well, whatever it is that you're worried about, you're going to have to get over it pretty sharpish," she said. "They'll all be expecting us to share at least one dance. We've got to do it to keep up appearances."

"Right," he murmured.

She bumped against his shoulder. "It won' be that bad, I promise."

"If you say so," he said, looking a bit green.

"Charming. You know how to compliment a girl, Mr. Bates."

"Oh, it wasn't an insult aimed at you. I just…" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't want to embarrass you. I don't want to let you down."

"Hey," she said at once, pulling away from him so she could see him properly. "You could never let me down. You hear me, John? I know that I will always be able to rely on you. And look what you're doing for me now. Not everyone would do that."

There was a long moment of silence. John opened his mouth, closed it again, tried to make a noise that came out all strangled. It hit her. He was going to say something. What, she wasn't quite sure. But it was significant. Would likely change everything for them.

Was she ready for that?

God, yes, she was. She was so ready to end this charade and play at a relationship with John Bates for real.

And if what he had to say wasn't what she was hoping to hear?

Well, at least she'd know. As heart-breaking as it might be, at least she'd know..

"Anna—" he began hoarsely.

"Bonjour!"

They leapt apart as if someone had thrown acid over them. Head spinning, Anna's gaze found the newcomer who had dared to interrupt what might have been the most important moment of her life.

Pierre, Tim's best man.

The man that Cat had been so eager to set her up with. Anna could see why her sister might have thought that she would be attracted to him. He was slim and tall, with dark eyes and even darker hair, with the kind of high, hollow cheekbones that most women went mad for, and pretty, pouty lips. The bowtie that he'd had around his neck for the ceremony was now missing, and several buttons on his shirt had been opened from his throat, unnecessarily as far as his middle, giving a glimpse of the toned pecs and hairless chest.

He slid into the seat opposite them without invitation, like a graceful cat.

"Hello again, Anna," he said.

"Hello," said Anna, without much enthusiasm. "I don't believe you've been introduced to my boyfriend yet. This is John."

"Bonjour, Jean," said Pierre, perhaps deliberately exaggerating the French pronunciation in the hope of making her swoon at how sexy it sounded. She was hard pressed to refrain from rolling her eyes.

"Hello," said John guardedly. He did not offer his hand to shake.

Pierre showed no signs of noticing. He ran a hand through his hair, making it ruffle up in a style that Anna could only assume was named 'I just spent the night in bed with some girl', and gave a charming, boyish grin that showed off his white, even teeth. Teeth that were too white to be natural, she decided.

"Are you not worried, Jean?" he said, giving her a rakish grin.

"Why should I be worried?" said John. There was a definite tension in his words.

"Ah, you know how these weddings go," Pierre said. "Legend has it that the best man and the maid of hour always find their way together, you see? And I am Timeo's best man, and Anna is Catherine's maid of honour." He made a 'what can you do' gesture with his hands, as if it wasn't him who made the rules, but it was a cross that he was more than willing to bear.

"I'm not single," Anna said at once, as pleasantly as she could.

"Of course not," said Pierre soothingly, though his expression was irritatingly indulgent; obviously he found it mildly entertaining that she thought that she could remain faithful to someone like John in the face of all of his charisma and sex appeal. Slimy git, Anna thought irritably.

"Did you want something in particular?" she asked as sweetly as she could.

"Yes. I wanted to know if the maid of honour wanted to dance with me again."

"Oh, no, that's okay. I'm happy where I am."

"Just a little dance, Anna Smith."

"No."

"Perhaps you should."

The voice was so unlike John's that it took her several seconds to work out where it had issued from. She rounded on him at once.

"No, John," she said.

He seemed not to hear her; his eyes were transfixed somewhere on Pierre's perfect pecs. Anna's heart sank. That was the bloody last thing she needed, John mournfully comparing himself to the man sitting opposite him. He'd brood and think himself not good enough, not once thinking to compare himself in ways other than the physical; in personality, Pierre would lose every time, because he was a Grade A dickhead.

"I need a cigarette, anyway," John said listlessly. "Rob might fancy one too."

"I'll come with you."

"No, that's fine. You don't like the smell of it."

Hs mournful tone brooked no argument. Helplessly, she watched as he pushed himself to his feet, unhooked his cane from the chair, and limped away.

"Ah, that's better," Pierre said brightly. "You deserve to have someone who can dance the night away with you."

"I don't want someone to dance the night away with," Anna said, more coldly this time. "I'm perfectly fine where I am."

"You cannot mean that," Pierre said. If it was a different situation, she'd find his shock at her dismissal comical. And a bit sad. It reeked of desperation.

"Oh, I've never meant anything more. If you're looking for someone to shag at the end of the night, you've come to the wrong place. Try one of the other bridesmaids. You might have more luck there."

Pierre scowled at her, but she remained unmoving. She hoped that the slimeball _didn't_ find anyone. Maybe that would knock him down a peg or two. Though she probably wouldn't be so lucky: some hapless singleton was bound to fall for his charms and be left heartbroken in the morning.

It didn't really matter. It wasn't going to be her. All she really cared about was finding John. She'd show him that he could be stupid at times, but it didn't change the way she saw him, certainly not against a prat like that. Without another word, she got to her feet and moved away.

The smoking area was located at the far end of the gardens, far away from any of the revellers, in a place where they were less likely to cause an eyesore. Anna made her way through the swishy grass, trying not to let her heels sink into the mud.

Murmuring voices carried on the wind as she approached. She pulled up short for a moment. One was unmistakably John's; she'd recognise it anywhere. That meant that Robert would be with him. The sensible thing to do would be to turn back around, for she did not want to be caught eavesdropping. And yet…

And yet instinct told her to go on. They had to be talking about what had happened. She needed to hear this.

She crept forward as quietly as she could, ducking behind a nearby hedge. She could hear everything now.

"…Don't know why you act like such a prat," Robert was saying.

"Oh, thanks," John said grumpily. "You're supposed to be consoling me."

"And I am. I just think that sometimes you are so bloody dim."

Anna's heart started to pound in her chest as she leaned into the prickly hedgerow, and she strained to hear as John lowered his voice further.

"It was a sign, Rob. It was a sign that we're never going to be together."

There was only one thing he could be discussing. The two of them.

"You're just being the same defeatist idiot you've always been. Why the hell did you run away?"

"You haven't seen the bloke. Ripped to pieces, every girl's wet dream. And what have I got to offer her? Not even good looks."

"Do you realise just what a disservice you're doing Anna?" Robert demanded. "Do you honestly think she cares a fig about what people look like?"

She heard John exhale moodily. "Wasn't her ex good looking?"

"Key word: ex. And I reckon she's learned her lesson there. I only met him a few times, but he seemed like a total idiot. And believe me, I _never_ saw her looking as happy with him as she has done with fake-dating you over these last few days. Hell, make that _whenever_ she's with you. Seriously, Bates. I can't pretend to understand it, but it's the truth. If you've blown it, it's only your own stupid fault for not sweeping in when you had the chance. You should have told the bloke where he could go and commanded the dance."

"Well, if I've missed my opportunity, that only proves to me further that we were never meant to be."

"Bollocks, and you know it. You're just trying to find a reason why you shouldn't pursue it further, and all I can tell you is that you're making the biggest mistake of your life by doing it. Anna thinks the world of you, she really does."

"That's very different to having feelings for me."

"Is it?" said Robert lightly. "I'm not so sure."

Unseen, Anna nodded vigorously. All she wanted to do was leap round that bend, to yell that Robert spoke the truth, that she wanted him more than she wanted to breathe, but to do that would be to give away what she had been doing, and she couldn't. So she stood there frozen, willing Robert, the surprising voice of reason, to give some more sage advice.

"It's just so hard," said John at last, "to have so many feelings for her and not know that she feels what I feel. These past couple of weeks have been the most torturous that I have ever had." He chuckled, a sound that sounded suspiciously close to him losing control. "God, Rob, if you knew how many times I've had to physically stop myself from just grabbing her and kissing her senseless…"

He had feelings for her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless. That was all that would register in Anna's numb brain. Why hadn't he, she wanted to scream. If he had tried it, he would have realised that she did return his feelings emphatically…

It must have been a sign of how desperate John was that Robert didn't laugh, as Anna knew he would have at any other time.

"I know, mate," he said softly. "I know."

"But you don't, do you?" snapped John. "You know that Cora loves you. That was never in doubt for you."

"Maybe not. But do you think that I don't feel like an arsehole even now knowing that I didn't tell her that I felt the same way about her for so long afterwards? I can't even imagine what that must have done to her. But you've got a chance here to find out once and for all. You need to take it, John. You'll only hurt yourself more if you try to pretend that it isn't happening."

"And if I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way?" he whispered.

"Then at least you'll know," said Robert simply. "Knowing is better than having to torture yourself with what ifs further. But I'm fairly confident that you'll be pleasantly surprised if you take a chance. You've let Vera hold you back for too long. It's time that you started your life again. And Anna is perfect for you. Just the once, put yourself out there. And if it backfires, you have my word that I will never try to push you towards a woman for the rest of your days."

"There could never be anyone else anyway," John murmured. "I just don't want it to ruin our friendship. She means too much to me for that."

"But think about how much more you could have."

Yes, Anna wanted to scream. Think how much more they could _both_ have. If they had the opportunity to be together like that, then it would mean that they would light up the world. If they had more, they would both know happiness beyond anything they had experienced before now.

He had to make the right choice.

But did it really matter if he didn't? After all, she knew the truth now. There was absolutely nothing stopping her from grabbing _him_ and kissing him senseless instead.

As if reading her thoughts, Robert asked, "Have you really seen nothing this past week that might lead you to believe that she does feel the same way about you?"

Anna leaned so far forward to hear his reply that she thought she might tumble through the hedge. Yes, there had been so many charged moments between them this week; surely one of them must have resonated with him somewhere…

John hesitated. "Well, she _did_ kiss me the other night."

Robert started hacking, suggesting that he had choked in the middle of taking a drag on his cigarette. It was accompanied by hard whacking sounds—John slapping him over the back.

"What!?" Robert gasped at last. "Anna kissed you and you never said anything? When!? _Where_!? Unless it was only on the cheek…"

"No, it was on the mouth," said John.

"And you didn't take that as her cue that she was interested in you? You really are a bloody idiot!"

"No, it wasn't like that," John said defensively. "She was drunk. It was on her sister's hen do."

"Oh, I see. Well, why didn't you just grab the bull by the horns and ask her then? You could have spared yourself another week of what ifs."

"Well, we kind of just laughed it off. I didn't dare bring it up again, she was so blasé about it. I figured that it had just been another piece of acting to convince her family of our charade."

"She was probably waiting to take her cue from you! Women do like men to act like men sometimes, you know!"

"Well, Cora's been waiting a very long time for you."

"Oi, Bates, leave my manliness out of this. It's yours that's in question, not mine. I have been happily married for almost thirty years, so I must have done something right along the way."

There was a brief moment of silence where Anna imagined them both smoking and looking up at the sky overhead.

"So, um," Robert murmured at last, "what was the kiss like? Did it make you see stars?"

John sounded a bit embarrassed when he answered. "Well, it was, er…a bit sloppy, if you must know."

Anna felt heat flare in her cheeks as Robert started to roar with laughter.

"Sloppy?" he howled. "Is she that bad at it?"

Bloody hell, she thought furiously, a bit stung that Robert was mocking her. God, _why_ had she been so stupid that night? She should never have drunk enough to lose her faculties. Now John thought she was a bad kisser. Which she _wasn't_. Or at least she didn't think she was. She'd just always imagined their first kiss to be so mind-blowing that there wouldn't be enough good words to describe it. Not sloppy. Talk about a bad first impression…

"I don't think she's a bad kisser," said John uncomfortably. "I told you, she was drunk. No one is at their best when they're drunk. I was a drunk long enough to encounter some very bad situations, and I know for a fact that Cora has complained about your performance after you've had a drink, so you can't pull the wool over my eyes."

"What—Cora has said—that's neither here nor there!" Robert sputtered. "We're not discussing me. We're discussing you."

"Then don't make fun of Anna."

Ana felt a rush of gratitude. Her dear John, such a gentleman. How did he not see how perfect he was?

"And to answer your earlier question: it _was_ a bit sloppy, but it still made me see stars."

Her spirits soared at once. What a testimonial. If only she could go round there right now and grab him. She'd show him exactly what seeing stars meant if she could kiss him with all of her faculties intact.

If she could concentrate beyond her _own_ stars, of course.

"Bloody hell, you've got it bad," said Robert consolingly. "The last sloppy kiss I had was from one of the Hexham girls—I forget which one now—just before I met Cora. It still gives me nightmares today. All that slobber. Yuck."

"Thank you for that lovely imagery," said John. Anna heard him shifting. "Thanks for the cigarette and the talk."

"Always happy to oblige. We men have got to talk about our feelings sometimes."

More shuffling, as if they were crushing their cigarette butts, beneath their heels. She had to get out of here, now, before she was discovered. She'd never be able to face them if she was. Beginning to beat a hasty retreat around the side perimeters so that she wasn't seen running across the open space back to the party, she caught Robert pleading with John one more time to trust his feelings.

She prayed that he would. But even if he didn't, she now had some ammunition of her own.

* * *

By the time that John and Robert re-joined the party, Anna had insinuated herself into a conversation with her mum and old Mrs. Dubois. She waved at John to catch his attention. Robert muttered something to him, elbowed him in the ribs, and sauntered off. Since their last meeting, John had undone his own bowtie, leaving the strand of material draped sadly around his neck, and opened the first few buttons at his throat. Anna's heart leapt. There was something incredibly sexy about a proper suited and booted man, but there was something equally alluring about a smartly dressed man becoming a little more dishevelled as the night drew on.

He started to make his way towards them, a tentative, almost apologetic smile on his face.

"I thought I would find you on the dancefloor," he said when he reached them.

"No," she said. "I didn't really fancy it."

"Not even with Pierre?"

"Definitely not," she said, and wrapped her arms around his middle, rather taking him by surprise, if his expression was anything to go by. He wrapped his own arm around her waist as she snuggled into him.

"I like Pierre," said Mrs. Dubois. Which was a surprise, given that she didn't seem to approve of anyone. Pierre must have turned on the charm a thousand fold with her. And the less said about that, the better.

"He's certainly a card," said Mum, looking in Pierre's direction, where he was chatting up one of the other giggling party guests. It seemed to be the nicest thing she could say on the subject, and Anna hid her grin against John's arm. There, that was one area that John had already licked him in.

"Are you going to dance, Anna, John? I haven't seen you out there yet," Mum continued, interrupting her thoughts.

"You dance?" said Mrs. Dubois quizzically, eyeing John's cane.

"Not often," he admitted. "Certainly not to anything like this." He inclined his head in the direction of the dancefloor, where a rather hazardous Gangnam Style routine was taking place, led by the bride and groom.

"But you can't come to a wedding and not dance," said Mum, sounding appalled.

"We didn't say that," Anna said quickly. "We're just waiting for the right song."

On the dancefloor, Gangnam Style came to a car crash ending amid cheers.

"And now for a change of tone," came the DJ's voice over the sound system. Ladies and gentlemen, grab your lovers and get ready for a smooching session."

The opening bars of one of Ed Sheeran's classics sounded, and there were cheers and a rush towards the dancefloor. Anna glanced up at John, grinning wryly.

"And there's our sign," she said. "We can't not dance now, Mr. Bates."

"No," he agreed nervously. She knew he'd rather not, but there was no feasible way of getting out of it when they were standing with her mum. He cleared his throat. "Excuse us, ladies. Do you mind if I leave my cane here?"

"Of course not," said Mum, and he hooked his cane over one of the nearby chairs. Then, shaking, he held out a hand to her.

"Come here, Miss Smith."

She went with him gladly.

The dancefloor was crowded with many young lovers. Some were murmuring in their native tongues to each other. Others were swaying on the spot, foreheads pressed together. Yet more were taking the DJ's words seriously, locked at the lips. Anna gave John a shy grin. He wrapped both of his arms around her hips, tantalisingly close to her bum. Anna wrapped her arm around his middle as she rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes to focus on the lyrics. She'd always loved this song, but experiencing it now, with John, made her fall in love with it all over again. She never wanted this moment to end.

Mindful of John's capacities, they did nothing more taxing than swaying from side to side. It was still one of the most incredible moments she had ever experienced.

"Your mum's watching," John murmured from somewhere above her.

She turned her head slightly so that she could look up into his face. "I thought she might be."

"Hawks stare at their prey less beadily than she is at us."

"Do you think we're convincing enough for her?"

"I don't know," said John huskily. "Do you?"

Anna looked at him—really looked at him. At the longing and desire and affection in his eyes, at the soft quirk of those delectable lips, at the way he bent his head towards her to hang on to her every word. She hoped that he might be able to see some reflection of those feelings in her own countenance, willed him to see it.

"Yeah," she said. "I do."

They turned a little more. One of John's hands left her hip to travel up her side, coming to a rest just beneath her breasts. Her breath caught.

Please, she thought desperately. Please.

She didn't know what it was. It could have been any number of things. The swell of the music. Robert's words ringing in his ears. The fact that her mother was watching. Or perhaps even the look on her face that she wanted him to interpret. All she knew was that one minute they were staring at each other, and in the next he was leaning down towards her.

 _John was leaning in to her._

"Anna," he breathed.

She tried to say something, but her voice box was frozen. Her _brain_ was frozen. She stopped moving while the world around her carried on, oblivious. She tilted her head towards him, offering her mouth.

 _And he closed the gap._ Stumbling, like a colt, his nose bumping hers—

Her brain wiped completely. Because he was kissing her. _John Bates was kissing her, Anna Smith_. The world could have been collapsing around her, and she wouldn't have cared. This was the most important moment of her entire life.

John's eyes had fluttered closed, and she couldn't keep her own open. She gave in completely, relying on her senses to guide her, senses that were nigh on _exploding_. His aftershave was alluring in her nostrils. The hand near her breast had abandoned all pretences of not knowing where it really wanted to be, and slid up to her cheek, guiding the angle of her head to one that suited him better. His calloused, gentle fingers against her face sent bolts of heat racing through her, and she grasped desperately at fistfuls of his jacket to keep herself anchored, feeling the strong muscles in his back contract in response to her touch.

His tongue touched the seam of her lips.

She almost shattered.

A host of new, electric sensations shocked her entire body then as she opened her mouth to his. The forgotten feeling of being kissed by someone who was truly relishing the prospect, treating her mouth like the one thing that was keeping him alive. A tongue sliding against her teeth, finding her own. The wet heat, the soft breaths. No slobber, thank God. Just pure, aching need.

Somewhere in the background, Anna dimly registered that the music had changed, into yet another poppy number blaring through the speakers. John did not seem to have noticed; he was still kissing her with the same slow deliberation. She would have liked to have let herself get swept away in the moment, but somewhere in the very back of her mind, she knew it wasn't a good idea. She did not want too much attention to be drawn to them around the other dancing couples, and she knew that they needed to talk, at least a little.

And then hopefully they would find somewhere more discreet to carry on kissing, because now she had experienced it once, she needed to experience it over and over and over again.

Reluctantly, she lowered herself back to her heels, her mouth coming away from his with a pop. John's eyes blinked open slowly, and she smiled up at him, trying to assuage any doubts that had probably sprung immediately to his mind.

"Wow," she whispered.

He chuckled tentatively. "A good wow?"

"Definitely," she said, and nuzzled into his chest for a moment. "Let's move off of the dancefloor."

He nodded in agreement and, twining hands, they slipped away. John still did not have his cane, but he did not seem to care, leading her across to a secluded spot sheltered from the main area of the party. Anna pulled out one of the seats and sat herself down. John followed suit.

There was a moment of uncertain silence.

Anna grinned at last.

"So," she said.

"So," John echoed.

They chuckled shyly together, and Anna shook her head.

"This is ridiculous," she said.

"What is?" he asked cautiously, almost as if he was afraid that she had changed her mind. She had to stamp that out quickly.

"I'm glad that happened," she said quickly. "I just meant that it was ridiculous that we were so awkward afterwards."

"Well, I'm only speaking for myself, but I don't go around all of my friends kissing them on the mouth," he said.

She snorted. "So I should hope not." Sobering, she reached across for his hand, threading their fingers together. He looked down at their hands, and she saw so many emotions flash through his eyes.

"So," he said, speaking to their hands, "what does this mean for us?"

This was her chance. She knew that she was the one who needed to seize this first opportunity. John had kissed her, but he had no confidence when it came to romance. She had to reassure him that she truly wanted this, that she felt the things that he felt too. She squeezed his hand and forced him to look up at her.

"It means," she said slowly and clearly, "that I want our pretend relationship to become a real one."

John swallowed hard. "You mean that? Really?"

"Really," she said, grinning broadly.

"You could do so much better than me, though. Someone young, someone untarnished, someone whole…"

"Someone like Pierre, you mean?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Perhaps."

"Pierre was a prat," she said fiercely. "I don't want someone like that. I want someone intelligent and kind and appreciative and gentle, and handsome to boot. I want someone like you."

He snorted. "You need your eyes testing if you think I'm handsome."

"You are," she said firmly. "You're beautiful. I've always thought so. I've barely looked at anyone else twice since meeting you. No one else could compare to you. I've always wanted you, always hoped that maybe you felt the same way about me."

"All that time?" he whispered. "From when we first met?"

"Ye," she said simply.

"I can't get my head around it," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't understand what I did."

"You don't need to understand it," she replied. "You just need to trust it."

"I've never been very good at trusting myself," he confessed. "I usually do something to screw everything up."

"Well, _I_ trust you won't," she said. "And that's the most important thing."

"I suppose you're right."

"There's no suppose about it."

He chuckled. He looked positively _giddy_. It was an expression she had never seen before, that seemed so foreign on his countenance…and yet it suited him perfectly. She was getting a glimpse of the man that he could be, if only he had had the confidence to trust himself before. She had faith that she would begin to see more and more of him as time wore on.

"How…how long have you felt this way?" he asked shyly.

"Almost from the beginning," she answered honestly. "I've always fancied you like mad. Sometimes I was afraid that I was being entirely too obvious."

"All that time?" he said wondrously.

She nodded. "What about you?"

His face shadowed. "About the same length of time. I'm not sure that it makes me feel any better. We could have been together earlier, but I was always too afraid to say anything, always so sure that you wouldn't look twice at someone like me…Christ, I've wasted so much time."

"You haven't," Anna said firmly. "I wouldn't consider any time spent with you as wasted. You're my best friend. I've had so many brilliant moments with you. You've made me feel alive in a way that no one else has."

"And what happens when we go back to England?" he said quietly.

"Nothing. Everything." She laughed. "I don't want the essence of our relationship to change. I still want to do all the things we already do. There will just be an added element to it now, in that if I feel like leaning across to kiss you, I can."

She demonstrated to leave him in no doubt, and loved the imprint of his smile beneath her mouth.

"And I can take your hand if I want to," he said, almost as a question.

"Absolutely," she said.

"And if someone asks about…us?"

"We tell them the truth," she said. "We tell them that we're together." She jutted her chin and looked him square in the eye. "I'll tell them that I love you."

John swallowed hard. "You…you love me?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes, I do. I've loved you for so long. Don't worry, I don't expect you to say it back—"

"I love you too," he interrupted her.

She stopped short. "What?"

"I love you too," he repeated. "I always will."

It was as if a weight had been lifted from her. John Bates loved her too. It was no longer just a closely guarded dream. It was her reality.

By mutual consensus, they leaned across the table towards each other. John's hand found her cheek once more, and she pressed her palm to it, keeping him in place. Their lips met again.

It was nothing like their first kiss had been, slow and exploratory. This one was desperate. Clamouring.

A little bit sloppy.

Breath was ragged, mouths ravaged. Between kisses, Anna repeated her declaration of love, felt warm bursts of air against her as he panted the words in return. There was only one thing in her mind: the empty hotel room away from prying eyes, with that huge, soft bed that simply begged to see some action.

She pulled away from him harshly, resting her forehead against his.

"Is something wrong?" he asked at once.

"No," she said breathlessly. "Just…let's get out of here."

Electricity seemed to crackle in the air between them; they were nearly always on the same wavelength, and now was no exception. John nodded. There was a look in his eye that excited her.

"Wait here for me," he said hoarsely. "I need to fetch my cane."

"Hurry," she begged.

"As fast as my crippled leg will let me," he promised, and disappeared towards the main party. Anna sprang to her feet and began to pace restlessly to and fro, too full of nervous anticipation. There was no doubt in her mind what she wanted. It didn't matter to her that she and John hadn't really had a date yet. They had known each other for a very long time. They already knew each other intimately well, much better than most other couples did when they went to bed together for the first time. She loved him and wanted to share that part of herself with him. Wanted him to share his with her. There was no doubt in her mind that this was it for her, and she was almost certain that the same went for him. She had waited over two years for this moment. She would not let it pass her by.

Eventually, John returned, a little flushed in the face.

"Your mum cornered me," he explained. "Wanted to personally give us her blessing. I think that kiss she witnessed did the trick."

Anna giggled. "Well, it must have been quite something to witness, then."

"She seemed to think so. I think she wanted to discuss it with you, too, so I had to tell her that you weren't feeling very well and that I was taking you back to the room to rest."

"I'm not sure she'll believe that after that kiss," she said.

"I'm hoping she doesn't decide to call my bluff."

"That would be the slightest bit awkward." Anna stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Now that he had his cane, he couldn't hold her in the same way, but his left arm was strong and sure, and his lips were intoxicating as they met again. And again. And again. It seemed that now they had started, they were trying to catch up on all the kisses they could have already have had if they had both been braver. The fire roared through her veins, and she pulled away with great difficulty.

"The room," she managed. "If we don't get up there, they'll find us doing it up against the wall."

John burst out laughing, burying his head against her. "Perhaps not. I'm not sure if my leg would bear both of our weights."

"Maybe we'll find out sometime."

"Maybe we will."

The exchange, while simmering with exciting promise, also diffused some of the unbearable tension that had been rising between them. Chuckling, John held out his left hand to her. It wavered slightly, as if he still didn't know whether she would take it or not, but she grasped it without hesitation and threaded their fingers together. The times of doubts were gone.

"Is it really bad that we're not hanging around to see your sister swept up the stairs?" asked John as they skirted around the revellers back towards the entrance of the hotel.

"Well, probably a bit," she admitted. "But there's so much alcohol flowing that I doubt anyone is going to notice. Only Mum knows, and she's hardly going to say anything. We should escape scrutiny."

They said no more on the subject. Anna was relieved when they reached the brightly lit, highly polished reception area. The young woman sitting behind the desk gave them a quizzical look as they burst through. Anna could feel the happiness inside her chest threatening to explode.

"Headache," she explained, the huge grin that she felt spreading irresistibly across her face at complete odds with her words.

"A chronic one," John added.

The young woman blinked uncertainly, then buried her head in a pile of papers, as if she would rather not know. Stifling giggles, Anna dragged John across the floor towards the elevators. She jabbed the button for their floor and waited impatiently for the lift to descend.

As soon as they were inside, John pulled her back to him and resumed their kissing. She met him eagerly, sliding her arms around his strong back and loving the way that his left arm kept her anchored to him in return. Even when they heard the elevator ping to indicate that they had arrived at their destination they did not break apart straight away.

Not until someone pointedly cleared their throat.

Anna turned to look at the source of the interruption, finding an older, distinguished couple standing in the space just outside the lift. The woman looked as if she was about to faint. The man jabbed his finger and said something in French. Anna didn't know what he had said, but she had a feeling that he wasn't offering them congratulations on their long overdue jump from friends to more. John answered in French—so impressive, she thought dreamily—and ushered her out of the lift. The woman shot them a disgusted look as she was bundled in by her husband, and Anna offered her a cheery wave as the door slid shut behind them. Nothing on earth could spoil her mood tonight.

"What was that all about?" she asked, swinging their joined hands between them as they hurried towards their room, John's cane clacking unnaturally loudly between them as they went.

"The gentleman didn't care for the way that we were flaunting ourselves so brazenly in public," John explained. Under normal circumstances, Anna thought that he might have been horrified to have been spoken to so harshly by someone else, but now he was grinning broadly. "I told him not to worry about it, because we were about to go and flaunt ourselves brazenly in private. I think I offended them even more."

"Anna laughed. "You are a wicked, wicked man."

"Oh, Miss Smith," he said airily, "you've seen nothing yet."

His tone might have been casual, but she tingled all over.

It seemed to take an age to reach the door and get inside. They tumbled through it, and Anna finally pulled herself away from his grip, moving to switch on the lights while he fumbled behind around behind her. When she turned back around, she found that he had discarded his undone bow tie over the back of one of the chairs, and had draped his jacket there too. He stood before her in just his shirt and trousers, and she swallowed hard, feeling the temperature of the room rise ten degrees despite that infernal air conditioning.

They were on the precipice.

"Come here," he whispered, but it was not a command; he was giving her the opportunity to back out if she wanted to.

She didn't. There had never been a moment she had wanted more.

* * *

It was over.

He did not speak for several long minutes, but bit by bit he relaxed into the mattress, a little chuckle escaping from his lips. Anna felt a grin curving her own, sitting up as much as her wobbly limbs would allow.

"What is it?" she said.

He shook his head in mild disbelief. "Nothing, really. I suppose it just all feels a little surreal. An hour ago I was feeling sorry for myself because I thought that the gorgeous best man was going to sweep you off your feet, and now here I am in bed beside you, and I know that you're definitely _not_ interested in another bloke. I can hardly get my head around it."

"Well, you need to," she said. "Because I am head over heels for you, and that's not going to change."

"Thank God," he said, and lifted his head up just enough to kiss her. She revelled in the movement of his mouth before pulling away. Suddenly she felt very heavy and tired. She supposed the chaos of the day was finally catching up with her. She had been up at the crack of dawn, swept away in all of the pandemonium, wined and dined, and had had a momentous conversation with the man that she was in love with…as well as so much more. Right now, all she wanted was to snuggle up with him and sleep. Everything else could wait until the morning.

As if reading her mind, John pushed her hair out of her face. "Go and clean up," he murmured.

She gave him a gentle smile. "Thank you."

She slipped out of bed, shivering in the cold after the humidity of what they had done, and padded over to the bathroom in the nude. She felt his eyes following her all the way.

She cleaned up quickly, more to get out of the cold than anything else, and hurried back to the bedroom. John was still reclining in bed, but he pushed himself out of it to go and clean himself up now that the space was vacated. Anna slid back into the warmth of the sheets, bringing the duvet up to her nose so she could breathe in the heady smell of him. Her eyelids were already fluttering, her head seeming to sink into the pillow.

She started when John's heavy bulk dipped the mattress.

"Is it all right if I hold you?" he whispered.

"Of course it is," she said. "I need you to after that."

Without further ado, he pulled her back against his chest, looping one arm around her waist and burying his head in her hair. She loved the feeling of his chest, the thick hair tickling her back every time he inhaled and exhaled. She loved how strong and warm and reassuring he felt tangled up with her like that. She loved him.

She wanted to remind him of that fact again, but she felt too heavy to move. Her sleep was deep and restful.

* * *

When she woke again, it was to sunlight and, for the second time, the press of something hard to her lower back. Rather than any mortification, however, she was pleased to feel John's lips caressing her shoulder just lightly, his right hand toying with the swell of her breast. It was incredible what a few hours could do to someone's confidence.

Smiling, Anna stretched out her limbs, enjoying the way that her bones popped. She shuffled over onto her other side so she could look at him properly. His eyes were still a little sleepy, and there was a light smattering of stubble over his chin. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Without even bothering to greet him, she craned up to kiss his mouth, loving the scratch of his chin against her. She trapped the hardness against her stomach, and he made a sound in the back of her throat as she reached around to pull him closer. They spent several long moments simply kissing, until he pulled away from her, a contented smile on his lips.

"Good morning to you too," he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

She laughed, moulding herself around him. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You looked far too adorable."

"Please, don't apologise for kissing me. Although if you carry on doing it so enthusiastically, you might inflate my ego a bit…"

"It's a risk I'll take," she said. They didn't exchange another word, simply studying each other's faces. Under different circumstances, Anna might have felt very self-conscious about such scrutiny, worrying that she had drooled or that she had pink sleep lines pressed into her face, but with John, it simply wasn't an option. He looked at her as if she was the most wondrous thing he had ever seen. It gave her confidence.

"I still can't believe that last night happened," he said.

"Neither can I," she admitted. She'd dreamed about it, the kiss that had sparked it all off, the way that he had cradled her in his arms, the way that he had made her feel. The slide of his nakedness over hers, the fullness of him inside her, the harsh, whispered declarations of love…

John sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. "That was the best night of my life," he said. "God, Anna…"

She shifted closer to him, crawling up over his chest. "Maybe we can relive it?" She reached between them and touched the part of him that was pressing up against them.

"You don't have to," he said.

"I thought we'd got past that," she said. "Especially after last night."

He chuckled, lowering his lashes. "You're probably right."

"And you did make some very intriguing promises," she said, smirking at him. "Do you fancy revisiting those…?"

She didn't need to carry on. In the next moment, John had rolled them over and started kissing his way down her body. She sighed as she fisted her hands into his hair, melting into the mattress.

* * *

Afterwards, they lay twined together, nose to nose, exchanging kisses so soft that Anna thought she'd never recover from being a pile of goo in this bed. She couldn't bring herself to mind in the least. John Bates was every bit the excellent kisser that she'd thought he'd be.

He was excellent at everything else, too.

The thought made her giggle, and she had to pull away from him. John arched an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" he said. "Was my performance that bad?"

His words only made her laugh harder.

"No," she said at last. "No, it's quite the opposite, Mr. Bates." She snuggled closer, moving to rest her head against his chest. "I was just thinking about a conversation I had with Cat, about you. The day we had the dress fittings, she asked me how good you were in bed."

John's eyebrows rose even higher. "She did?" He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual, which made Anna smile. "So, er, what did you say?"

"Well, obviously I didn't know, but I had…fantasised about it many, many times. And in those times you were always very, very good." She grinned at the way his cheeks reddened, unable to resist leaning in to kiss him again. He pulled away too soon.

"Well?" he prompted, and she giggled at his boyish eagerness. John Bates might be a man unlike any other in most respects, but as soon as it came to basic human nature, he reverted back to his primal state. Seriously, what was it with men and their obsession with performance?

"I told her that you were the best that I'd ever had," she said.

His eyes widened. "I see. Well, that's quite the testimonial." His voice took on that blasé edge again, as if he really didn't care about how she answered, when she knew that his entire existence was hinging on it. "So, did the reality live up to the expectations?"

"Oh, Mr. Bates," she purred, "it exceeded them in every way."

He looked entirely too pleased with himself at that, a smug look that she longed to kiss away. "Ah, right. And how did Cat take the news?"

Anna smirked with him. "Told me that you hardly had a big pool to compete against, so the honour wasn't too big."

John shrugged. "I beg to differ. Number one in a small group is still number one. Does Tim not fare as well?"

"He might nowadays. They've been together a long time and have had the time to make it better. But he only started at number three. Her pool's a lot bigger than mine, though."

"And how big is your pool?" he asked. There was no judgement in his eyes.

"Just three, and that includes you," she admitted. "I was more of a 'one man' kind of girl. Cat had new boyfriends like they were going out of fashion."

"So Callum was number one…?"

"Number two," she corrected. "My first boyfriend, Toby, was number one. But we were both young and inexperienced and I never enjoyed it very much because he didn't have much clue what he was doing, either. We split while he was away at uni because we couldn't do the whole long-distance thing. I met Callum during my third year and we stuck it for a couple of years. He was better, but he was always rather selfish. It should have alerted me to what an arsehole he could be. He wanted it wherever he could get it, as you know, and so I threw him out on his ear. I _have_ had a few dates since then, but none got to that stage. And you are the hands-down winner. There's no competition, really. You are everything that the others weren't. Kind, so very generous…" She let her words tail off suggestively, looking at him from under her lashes. "The best I've ever had. And I defy Cat to say that she's had a better experience than the ones you've given me over the past twelve hours."

That impossibly pleased look was back on his face. "Well, it's certainly high praise. I hope I can please you every time."

"With a lot of practice, I'm sure we'll do just fine," she said.

Silence reigned for a few more minutes. John twisted strands of her hair through his fingers, a faraway look on his face. Anna wondered what he was thinking about. He didn't seem to be brooding, in any case. That was one thing. She rested her head against his chest, squeezing him tighter.

"What are you thinking?" she murmured.

"What it's going to be like from now on," he said at last. "You and me, together. I'm thinking of all the places that I want to take you. I'm thinking of the day that I get to introduce you to my mother as my girlfriend. Not just yet, of course. I want us to have a while to grow into this new dynamic between us. But it's something I'm looking forward to anyway. You know, when I told her that I was coming here with you, she wouldn't let the subject drop. Harassed me about it every time I saw her. She was adamant that I had feelings for you. I tried to deny it, but you've met her. You know how tenacious she is."

Anna felt suddenly ashamed that in all of this, she had never given a thought to how his own mother would interpret it. She had met old Mrs. Bates on several occasions, and had been invited round for tea on many of those, but it had never occurred to her that she might suspect that something fishy was afoot, that John would have to live through scrutiny and questions twice, from his own family as well as hers.

"And how did your mum feel?" she asked quietly.

"She was over the moon. She's wanted me to find a nice girl since the moment I divorced Vera, and she's always been most disappointed that I haven't shown any interest. Mostly because my interest was already taken." He looked down at her pointedly, and dipped his head just enough to press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

"So your mum is okay with the idea of you and me?"

"Anna, she's more than fine with it. It's the best news she's ever had. I mean, I told her emphatically that I was just going as your friend and there was nothing more in it, but she does like to let her imagination run wild. I expect she thinks I was just using it as a cover to whisk you away for a holiday. I think she'll get down on her knees and thank you when I tell her the truth."

That was a very lovely testimonial. Sometimes, in the back of her mind, she _had_ worried about what John's mother would say about the idea of them spending a life together. John always thought himself too old for her, but she was sure that there were some out there who would think that she was too young for him, or only after him for money. The last thing she wanted was for Margaret Bates to think that she was only interested in her only son because of the way he might be able to provide for her.

She would not admit that aloud. Not when John had come out here to brave her family, and taken unjust criticism right in the face, when they hadn't even been properly involved.

"I look forward to the day when we can tell your mother that we're together," she said. "I just hope I can meet her expectations."

"She already thinks the world of you. You have nothing to fear."

The atmosphere was deepening a little too much for such an early time, so Anna pushed herself into an upright position. "What do you say to us ordering room service on this final morning?"

"I say, Miss Smith," he replied, his voice all sensuous silk, "that that's a marvellous idea."

"Great," she said. "Let's do it, then."

There was a menu on the side of the bed, and she perused it with John draped all around her back, his head resting in the crook of her shoulder as they selected a range of things that they wanted. Push the boat out, John had murmured against her skin, and they had. They were celebrating, after all. Anna rang the order through to the best of her ability while John pressed kisses to her neck and cheeks and shoulders, squirming as he made her stomach a molten pool once more. So _this_ was what it was like to want to stay in bed every hour that God sent, discovering and experimenting with the joys of intimacy with each other. When she had finished the order, she threw the phone to one side, moving to wrap her arms around his neck and carry on their enthusiastic snogging session. He hummed in the back of his throat, rolling onto his back and bringing her with him. She pressed her hand to his arm to steady herself, the widened her fingers. She could just see the little tattoo that she had noticed the previous evening peeping through the gap. She pulled away, and John groaned, trying to pull her back to him. She resisted.

"So, what's this all about?" she asked, tracing the little arrow with the tip of her forefinger. "I noticed it yesterday, but I was rather…caught up in all of the action, so to speak."

John chuckled, easing her properly over his lower half. "I was hoping that it would be so small that it would escape any scrutiny."

"Not likely," she snorted. "Cat's got a couple."

"Has she?" said John. "I saw the one on her arm."

"She's got one somewhere where it can't be seen," said Anna. "Why, are you interested in discovering it?"

"Not one part of me," he said, bringing her closer. "Tattoos aren't your sort of thing, then?"

"I didn't think I had a strong opinion on them either way until last night," she said, waggling her eyebrows at him. "Now I have discovered that they can be downright sexy."

"But you've not got any that I might have missed?"

"I think you might have discovered them on your thorough investigation," she said, blushing as she remembered the way that his mouth had mapped every inch of her body in the morning light. "No, I don't. I hate needles. Cat tried to talk me into having one, but I wouldn't. What about you?" She could cover the whole thing with her index finger, and she hadn't seen any evidence of another one anywhere else—unless it was hiding under the thick hair on his chest.

"Pretty much the same," he said. "There was a girl I fancied. She seemed to have a thing for boys who were heavily tattooed. I had visions of impressing her with a full sleeve, but when the bloke started, I nearly passed out. All I could manage was this tiny little thing. Needless to say, she wasn't very impressed. Went off with my best friend at the time who _wasn't_ afraid, and it broke my heart."

"Poor you," Anna said, less sympathetically than she ought to simply because she wasn't too keen on the idea of John Bates being lovelorn for someone else. Although he _had_ listened to her talk about her other lovers, so she supposed she couldn't be too harsh.

"I thought it might come in handy later on, so I never bothered to look into having it removed," he continued. "I figured that if anything ever happened to me while I was serving, and my face was unrecognisable, they might be able to identify me through that. Which is a bit stupid, really, because if I'd been blown to smithereens, I doubt they would have found the bloody tattoo."

It was sometimes disconcerting, the way that he spoke so dismissively and morbidly about his time fighting out in Afghanistan. She knew that he still sometimes struggled to believe that his life mattered, that his internalised feelings were often contrary. She hoped that in time, with her love, he would start to realise that he mattered as much as anyone else.

"So you wouldn't consider having another one," she said, hoping to lighten the mood.

He chuckled. "God, no."

"Maybe an invisible one, then," she said.

"An invisible one?"

"Mmmhmm," she hummed. "Right here." And she wrote her name above his heart, slowly enough that he would be able to interpret it. His eyes glittered.

"Now, that is one tattoo I can stomach," he said, and kissed her. They didn't part until there was a knock on the door.

"That was quick," Anna commented. John made to get out of bed, but she pressed her palm to the centre of his chest. "No, you stay right there. Allow me to serve you breakfast in bed, Mr. Bates."

"It does sound heavenly," he said huskily.

"Just wait until you try it," she said, shooting him a flirtatious grin. Hopping out of bed, she bent down to retrieve John's discarded dress shirt. She couldn't be bothered to find a robe, and John's sheer largeness compared to her meant that it would easily hide her nakedness from the porter. Not that he would have to be a genius to work out what they had been doing. She rather liked the idea.

"You look so good in that," said John. "Christ, I don't think there's anything sexier than seeing you in my shirt."

"Not even seeing me out of it?" she said cheekily.

"Well, you've got me there. Just promise me you'll keep it on one time."

Heat licked at her insides at the racy images that rose in her head. "Deal."

The knocking came again, more insistently, breaking them out of their spell. Anna hurried over to the door, throwing it open.

"Come in—" she started cheerfully, then froze.

It wasn't the room service porter standing at the other side of the door.

It was Mary Crawley.

Anna squealed, staggering backwards.

"Anna, is everything all right?" she heard John say in concern, and the sound of the sheets shifting as if he was about to get out of bed. That wouldn't do at all.

"Stay there!" she squeaked.

"What?" She heard the frown in his voice, the thread of fear, and he was still bloody moving—

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," said Mary, making a cool entrance into the room like the villain in the big reveal. Anna heard John swear loudly behind her and claw promptly for the sheets.

"What are you doing here?" Anna managed, pulling John's shirt tighter around her and wishing that she had decided to put some knickers on after all.

"I came to see how you are," said Mary, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as if it was just another mundane day. "And I can see that the answer is 'very well'."

John yanked the covers up further, so that they were almost over his head. "Christ, Mary, can you turn away or something?"

"So you can get some clothes on?" she said breezily. "If you want. Though Anna's got your shirt, so I'm not sure you'll be getting very far." She shot her a sideways glance. "Feel free to thank me any time."

Her words sparked Anna's tongue into life. "Excuse me?"

Mary waved her hand casually behind her. "For the night of great sex you've just had."

"What—" Anna sputtered.

"Oh, come on, you can hardly stand there denying it now. John's naked in that bed and you're wearing nothing but his shirt. Not only that, my eagle eyes can see that little box I gave you in Paris…and it's open. So, come on, how long have you been shagging?"

"We're not doing this now," Anna ground out, casting a look at John's mortified face.

"We _are_ , Anna May Smith. Spill the beans so I can crow over my success."

Anna would quite happily have smacked her. She settled for glaring instead, which didn't seem to be having much effect.

"Look, you might as well admit defeat. You know I always get my own way."

"Not here," Anna repeated through gritted teeth.

"It was yesterday, wasn't it?" Mary continued as if she hadn't heard her.

"John, go and get showered," said Anna. It was the only thing she could do. If Mary wanted to tease her now, then she would take it, but she would not leave John in the line of fire. She did not want him to feel ashamed and humiliated, to pull away from all the progress they had made.

John must have read the emotions in her eyes, for he nodded.

"Mary, keeping looking this way," she ordered. "John's going to go into the bathroom."

"Don't worry, I have no intention of looking. He's like an uncle figure. He's one of the last people on earth that I want to see naked."

John slid from bed in lightning quick time, probably as quickly as someone who had had a drunken one night stand and realised their mistake in the cold light of day.

When the bathroom door had banged shut behind him, Anna rounded on her.

"What is your problem?" she snapped.

Mary had the audacity to look affronted. "I was merely offering my congratulations."

"What, by bursting into the room unannounced and poking fun at us? Great, thanks."

Mary sniffed. "Are you sure anything happened? You're being very moody."

"Yes, probably has something to do with the unexpected company!"

"All right, all right, calm down. I'm sorry. I was just excited for you and I wanted to see you. Which you should treasure, incidentally. I don't get excited for just anyone, you know. It's only because you're my best friend."

Anna relaxed slightly at this. "It's okay. Sorry for snapping."

"Apology accepted. So…?"

"So what?"

"So I need details! I'm right in saying that it happened yesterday, aren't I?"

"You are," she said grudgingly. Well, she might as well get this over with. She'd have to face it eventually. It might as well be now.

"I knew it. I saw you snogging on the dancefloor."

"Oh. You did?" she said sheepishly.

"Well, of course. You were hardly subtle about it, were you? Right there, bold as brass, in front of everyone."

"I thought people might have been more preoccupied with other things," Anna muttered.

"Well, others might have been. But Papa was really worried about John. Apparently he'd been in a real state earlier, and he wanted to keep an eye on him. Not that he really seemed to need it. Sprang right back from whatever had been troubling him, didn't he? Fell right into your consoling arms. And then you completely disappeared from the party, so I knew you must have gone upstairs. And believe me, _that_ kiss was only leading in one direction. And here you are, so I was right."

"Well done. You're so clever," Anna said grumpily.

"Don't take it out on me. And like I said, you should be thanking me. Where would you have been without my little present?"

Anna scowled. Much as she hated to admit it, Mary was right.

Her friend's voice softened. "So, what was it like? He treated you well, I hope."

Anna glanced up at her. There was no mirth, just concern. She softened a bit more. "Oh, Mary, it was wonderful. Better than I had ever imagined it would be, and that's saying something."

"Then that's all I need to know."

"Seriously, it was perfect. He was such a gentleman…" She remembered the way he had touched her, how he had focused so completely on her pleasure and what felt good to her, and shivered.

"No, really, I don't want to know any more," groaned Mary. "Just the thought of John shacking up with someone makes me feel nauseous. He's too close to a paternal figure for me to want to know all the gory details."

Anna rolled her eyes. So it was all right for her to have to endure Mary describing her sex life with Matthew in graphic detail worthy of a Mills and Boon, but not to share in return? Well, she wasn't going to stand for that. At least, she wouldn't when she was in a better state of dress.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

"Deliriously so," Anna said truthfully.

"Then that's all that matters. I shall leave you in peace to carry on whatever it was that you were going to do before I interrupted."

"Have breakfast, actually. We're waiting for room service. Will you do me a favour, though?"

"Of course."

"Don't make a big deal out of it just yet. Wait until we're back home. Mum is still none the wiser about John and I not being a real couple before now, and I want to tell her the whole truth before someone else spills the beans. But I don't want to do it now and spoil the end of what's been a lovely holiday. So promise me that you and Robert will keep the charade going?"

"Scout's honour," said Mary. "Even though I was never a scout because they sound ghastly. And I'll keep a tight leash on Papa. He was like a puppy. Bouncing around ridiculously, and so excited. I expect John is in for an uncomfortable time of it. Unlike me, I'm sure _he'll_ want to know every tiny detail."

Anna blushed at the thought of John giving Robert a blow-by-blow account of what had happened. Then again, John was tight-lipped most of the time. She probably had nothing to worry about.

Then again, if he was waxing lyrical about her, she didn't care who he told.

Mary hopped off the bed. "I'm just heading off to check out now. Our plane is earlier than yours because Papa wants to cram one last day in to see Paris. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow."

Anna followed her to the door. "Yeah, see you."

For a moment, Mary didn't move. And then she flung her arms around her neck and squeezed her fiercely.

"Congratulations," she whispered into her hair, then turned away, leaving Anna blinking in her wake, just as the porter's trolley trundled around the corner.

"For you, mademoiselle," he said, catching sight of her.

"Yes, thank you," Anna managed, stepping aside so he could follow her in. He laid everything out and she fumbled for a tip before he left them in peace.

The bathroom door creaked open.

"Is it safe to come out?" John asked.

She giggled. "Yes, it is."

He came out, still completely naked.

"Haven't you had a shower?" she asked.

"Thought I would wait until after breakfast," he said. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said cryptically, snaffling a pastry.

She certainly did.

* * *

They decided that, all things considered, it would be best not to share a shower. With how new and exciting everything was between them, Anna was sure that they would be playing with fire. It would be best to save this for another time, when they didn't have a flight to catch. While she showered, John started to pack, and she leaned against the doorframe when she was done, smiling at him as she watched. He was such a domesticated sight. One day that would hopefully become a staple. One day, they would brush their teeth side by side at the sink, sleepy-eyed; John would shave while she checked her makeup; they'd stand wrapped in nothing but a towel each and exchange sheepish grins at how carried away they'd got.

I was a fantasy that she treasured.

And, just like that, it was time to leave.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to wrap her arms around him while he locked the door behind them, nuzzling into his shirt and breathing in the thick, musky scent of his cologne. Regrettably, foiled by their luggage as they were, they couldn't hold hands as they made their way down the corridor towards the lift, but Anna made the most of it when they were inside, dropping her case to the floor and flinging herself into his arms. They managed just a couple of quick pecks before the lift pinged to signal that they had arrived in the lobby, and it was with great reluctance that they parted. John lead the way, and Anna shook her head a little dazedly at his back. For the past two weeks they had played their parts well, managing to give off the aura that they really were a couple in love while maintaining an appropriate distance. Now, Anna could hardly fathom how she was going to keep her hands to herself ever again. All she wanted to do was grab him and spend their time enthusiastically snogging. Which was rather at odds with the stoic displays they had pretended at.

When they arrived in the lobby, Anna was surprised to find Cat slumped over on one of the leather sofas, looking as if she had been hit by a bus. Leaving John to deal with the signing out process, she made her way towards her sister and flopped down opposite her.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

Cat winced. "Don't," she moaned. "My head feels like it's going to explode at any minute. And I can't swear that I'm not going to be sick. I've been here nearly two hours already. If it had been left to me, I would have stayed in bed, but I know that if I did that, Mum would be absolutely horrified at my lack of gracious hospitality in seeing my guests off. Not that I think grunting at them like an idiot makes me a better one. But you know Mum."

Anna giggled. "I certainly do. Where is she? And Tim?"

"Mum'll be along in a minute. As for Tim, he's sticking his head in a toilet somewhere, I think. Which is going to get _him_ into trouble with his dear mother because they've already gone to catch their flight and he missed them."

"You had a good night, then?" she said. The way that the newly married couple had been necking their drinks meant that she was not the least bit surprised that they were feeling the effects today.

"That's one way of putting it," said Cat. "All I know is that I'm never drinking again. You would have been better equipped to use the honeymoon suite than we were. We were both so pissed that we couldn't do anything but collapse on the bed. Tim couldn't get anything going down there, and I was so drunk I could barely tell one end from the other. I think any rocking would have sent me running for the bathroom straight away."

"Thank you for that vivid imagery," said Anna sarcastically. "You always had such a fine way with words. That's enough to put me off food for the rest of the day. Besides, what makes you think that John and I would have got any more use out of it?" She had to fight down the urge to smirk as she acknowledged that they definitely _would_ have put that room to very good use.

"Oh, come on, don't act coy with me, Anna," said Cat. "I might have been legless, but don't think for a minute that I hadn't noticed that you had snuck off before Tim and I went to bed."

"I had a headache," said Anna.

"A headache. Yeah, right. You had an ache somewhere, but it wasn't in your head. I bloody hope it was worth missing the end of your sister's most important day."

That did it. Anna couldn't stop her smug grin at that, reclining back in her seat. "Oh, yeah, it was worth it."

"You dirty thing," said Cat, but she was smirking too. "And Mum thought _I_ was the problematic child, the one whose mind always seems to be in the gutter. You're the one who can't keep her hands off her boyfriend! I bet you've been at it every night you've spent alone here together."

"There must be something in the French air," Anna said lightly. What Cat didn't know didn't hurt her. Besides, she rather liked the idea of people thinking that they were at it at all hours…

"I _am_ happy for you."

Anna managed to tear her eyes away from John's backside, sticking out as he leaned against the reception desk. "What?"

"I'm happy for you," Cat repeated. "For you and John. I know things didn't get off to the start that you wanted, but I can see that he's a good guy. No one has ever made you glow like this, anyway. You're like a teenager in the giddy throes of first love."

"I don't think I've ever been _in_ love before," she confided. "Not until John."

"That doesn't surprise me. I can tell that you're absolutely mad for him. Which I'm bloody glad about." She hesitated. ""I know I can be really pushy sometimes, but you just seemed like you were treading water before you told us about John. It seemed that Callum had ruined all men for you, and I didn't want you to give that slimeball the satisfaction. So I thought even if I just gave you a hot holiday romance, it might reignite your passion. Let's face it, it was a crime that you went so long without getting laid."

"Tasteful as always," Anna laughed.

"Speaking the truth, actually. And I'll admit it did seem a bit weird that you'd decided to settle with someone like John. I know better now," she added hurriedly, perhaps sensing danger in Anna's raised eyebrow. "You didn't initially seem to fit. But then I saw the way you looked at each other, and the way he treated you, and it all clicked into place. I looked at you again, and I couldn't understand how I hadn't seen how right you looked together before. I can't pretend that I know much more about him yet—with all this wedding stuff, we've not had the chance to talk one-on-one—but I can't wait to get to know him better. He has to be pretty special to have caught my big sister's attention."

"Yeah," said Anna, glancing across at him. "Yeah, he is pretty special."

"I'm looking forward to getting to know him better the next time we visit each other, when we don't have any crazy wedding plans to get in the way."

"I'm looking forward to it too," said Anna. "He's a great guy. He really is. I know you'll love him."

"I think I will," said Cat as John approached them now, a gentle smile crinkling his face.

"Are we all sorted?" he asked, moving to sit beside her.

Anna leaned against his solidness. "We're just waiting on Mum," she said, looking up at him. "Did you tell them about the air conditioning?"

"I did," said John. "They're going to sort it now."

"What's this?" said Cat.

"Oh, the air conditioning in our room was on the fritz," said Anna. "We couldn't get it to turn off."

"And you never thought to tell them before you were leaving?"

Anna shot John a mischievous grin. "Well, we found plenty of ways to keep warm, didn't we, love?"

"Yes, we did," said John, straight-faced.

"I'll bet you did," Cat said, rolling her eyes. "You're not clever with all these innuendos, you know."

Pot calling kettle, Anna thought, but she was too happy to say anything. The man she loved loved her too, and all was right in the world.

Any further conversation was stopped by the arrival of Mum, dragging her case behind her and looking harassed.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I got hold up at breakfast and was rushing around packing things last minute. I'll just go and check out." She dumped her case and hurried off.

"A tenner says that the old girl overlaid and is too embarrassed that she got sloshed and missed her alarm," Cat snickered.

"Say that to her face," said Anna.

"I don't have a death wish."

Mum soon returned, and they bundled outside in to the waiting hire care, which John had volunteered to drive back to the depo since Cat and Tim would be jetting off to America for their honeymoon.

"Enjoy yourself," said Anna, embracing her sister.

"And be careful," said Mum. "Keep in touch and let us know how you're getting on."

"If you got Facebook, you'd see," said Cat. "But don't worry, we'll be fine. We're looking forward to having a road trip. I'll ring you when we get there."

John lingered to one side, looking a little out of place. Thankfully, Cat turned to him, smiling.

"It's been very nice to meet you, John," she said. "You've done a bloody good job of making my sister smile. Keep doing that, all right?"

"It is my singular mission," said John solemnly, and Anna wrapped her arms around his waist. "Congratulations, Cat. Thank you for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming. I hope I can get to spend a bit more time with you the next time we meet. We'll have to have a day out together, just you and me. I need to put the screws on you."

John looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or quail.

"Leave him alone," Anna scolded.

"Oh, don't worry. I think he can look after himself," said Cat. "Now hurry up and leave. You're one of the last to go, and I'm already thinking longingly of getting back in bed and sleeping the day away. I'm sure Tim's already snuck back off there, the swine."

"All right, we're going," said Mum. There was another round of hugs—Cat leaned up to kiss John's cheek, which made him smile—and they all got into the car.

John leaned across to squeeze Anna's knee and she grinned at him. Just yesterday, she would have been facing the end of their little charade, but not it never had to end.

"All buckled in, ladies?" asked he. They answered in the affirmative, and he drove them out on to the bright open road.

* * *

They had decided not to get a plane back from Paris to Leeds-Bradford on the same day in order to break up the journey a little. They had a quiet last day at home, venturing out only to have one final meal together. Anna marvelled at how different it was to their first experience. Mum was inclusive and warm, encouraging John to join in on the conversation and share more details of his own life. She was glad that it was ending this way, even if the road up to it had been rocky.

When Mum announced that she was having a last cup of tea before heading to bed, they made the most of the time this time around, giving each other a thorough goodnight on the threshold of Anna's bedroom, parting only reluctantly when Mum's banging about below them became too pointed to ignore. Laughing like children, they shared one last kiss before John ducked away. Anna went in to her room to change, dreamily staring at her reflection in the mirror. A very content woman beamed back at her.

She was sure that it was an expression that wouldn't leave her face for the foreseeable future.

* * *

They travelled to the airport together, where they had arranged to meet Robert and Mary for the return flight home. Robert had told them that they should call them when they got into the departure lounge, so that they could have a moment with Mum on their own, and Anna was grateful for that. She pulled her into a hug, and breathed in the scent of her. It would have to be enough until they saw each other again. Mum patted her on the back.

"It's been so lovely having you here," she said. "I wish we could do it more often."

"Me too," said Anna honestly. Sometimes she forgot just how much she missed her family, until she was back with them and the pain started all over again. "But I'll see you at Christmas."

"You certainly will." Mum turned to John. "Will you be coming with her?"

"I don't think so, no," he said, glancing at her. "I have my mother at home and I wouldn't want to leave her for the holidays. But I will spend every minute of those holidays missing Anna."

"Well, if you would like to bring her with you, the offer is there. Either way, take care, John. Have a safe journey home."

And she surprised them both by throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight. Anna's eyes met his over her mum's shoulder, and she grinned. Yes, there it was. Finally. Full acceptance.

Life was good.

* * *

The dynamic that they had enjoyed on their break did not change when they were back in England. True to his word, John took her out every single night, to the cinema, to lovely little restaurants, to other events that he thought that she would find fun and she knew that he would rather avoid. It only made her fall further in love with him. She was so very, very lucky.

By mutual agreement, they had decided not to spend any time at each other's places that week. Anna knew that that would only end up in one place, and she respected John's wishes to show her that he wanted her for more than just sex. As if she ever needed convincing of that.

It was bloody hard to resist, too. When he kissed her goodnight on her doorstep, it took nearly everything she had not to drag him over the threshold and down to her bedroom. Mary might have been her one saving grace: she seemed to have the knack of interrupting at just the right moment before either one of them got too carried away.

It came to an end on Sunday night, when she spent the night at his. And what a night it was. Combustible, hot, needy. A week of pent-up desire bursting free of the barriers. Anna had never felt so alive.

When morning dawned on John's beautiful face, Anna made up her mind. It was time that her mum knew the truth, so that they could finally move forward with earnest.

* * *

After John had dropped her off at home and she had excused herself from Mary so that she could have this conversation in private, Anna sat at her table in the kitchen and nervously dialled her mum's phone. It was time to bite the bullet and get this out of the way. And though it was a daunting prospect, she couldn't wait to clear the air properly and get back to telling the truth. It rather helped that Mum was in another country entirely.

At last, Mum answered the phone. "Hello, darling."

"Hello," said Anna.

"Are you all right? You sound a little strange. You're not ill, are you?"

"No, I'm not ill." She took a deep breath. This was it. "Have you got a minute? I need to talk to you."

"Yes, I've got some time. I'm just making a shepherd's pie."

"You, um, might want to put all sharp implements out of the way."

"Why?"

"And you might want to sit down," she continued, ignoring her. "This might come as a bit of a shock."

"What might come as a bit of a shock? Anna May Smith, you're not telling me that you're pregnant…!"

"No!" she said quickly. "God, no! But it does have something to do with John."

"All right," said Mum, sounding suspicious. "What is it?"

Anna laughed unnaturally. "It's a bit of a funny story, really. Just…promise me that you'll listen to it until the end without interrupting. Or flying off the handle."

"Why would I fly off the handle?"

Anna thought of John, of the way that the last three weeks had panned out for them, of the way that he had left her bed just this morning to go and visit his mother to break the news to her in person. She thought of the way that he looked at her, the way that he held her in his arms, the way that he kissed her…the way that he loved her. It gave her the strength to push on.

"Well," she said, "you see…"

* * *

 _April 2019_

The ceremony had gone off without a hitch. It could not have been more perfect.

Robert had insisted that they host their very small reception at his and Cora's huge manor house. Anna had thought that there couldn't be a more impeccable venue, for it was a place where they had spent so many hours socialising outside of work, falling in love to the obliviousness of both their friends and to each other.

They had not wanted the fuss of a formal meal, so Beryl Patmore had offered at once to provide a simple buffet catering, which was absolutely delicious. They had consented to a wedding cake, which they cut together to cheers and sensually fed each other using the same fork, never breaking their gaze, while Cat hollered at them to get a room. Robert provided a speech that was part horrifying, part inspired. Although it wasn't traditional, Cat and Mary had needled at her until she'd allowed them to make a speech each, which she bitterly regretted once they were both underway. Mary's was filled with exaggerations of how much Anna had pined over John over the years, and Cat's was filled with moments of embarrassment that made her want to crawl under the table. She was quite sure that John would be questioning her further on some parts of that speech later on tonight. Unless she could distract him thoroughly enough. Which shouldn't be _too_ hard a task. She rarely had to use any of her feminine wiles to get his mind going in a one-track direction.

They had decided not to go with the usual disco, but John had been the one to insist that they take up the tradition of having a first dance as man and wife. It was such a romantic notion that Anna had agreed readily. There was only one song that was suitable for the occasion.

The Ed Sheeran classic that they had been dancing to the moment that John had lost the battle against his feelings.

They slow danced together, lost in a world that was completely their own. Anna rested her head against John's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart beneath her, loving the way that he held her so securely in his arms. It was almost a complete replica of that dance from so long ago, the very first they had ever shared.

When the music swelled, John lowered his head once more and kissed her breathless. She didn't care who was watching them. She never wanted the moment to end.

All good things eventually did. As the last notes of the song died down, John pulled away from her reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers. Some of those gathered clapped; she distinctly heard Cat telling them that it was _definitely_ time to get a bloody room.

After that, it was time to mingle. Anna made the rounds, thanking the small band of people for attending and soaking up the sincere congratulations that came her way. She was Mrs. Bates now. It was still so surreal. The second band of metal around her finger felt strange, in the loveliest way possible. Seeing the thick gold band on John's finger made her tummy flip with butterflies. He was her husband.

At last, she reached her mum and sister.

"So," she said, "did it match with your expectations?"

Mum sniffed. "It was beautiful, love. And John looked so handsome too. It was a wonderful ceremony."

"Mum was bawling her eyes out," said Cat. "I could hardly hear the vow exchange over her sniffing."

"Well, it wasn't as if we'd written our own," Anna shrugged. They had discussed it, but had decided in the end that all they needed was a simple oath to dedicate their love and lives to each other. They didn't need anything more elaborate than that, just the two of them. As it had always been.

"I'm still not sure about the dress, though," said Mum.

Anna rolled her eyes. They had had plenty of arguments about that across the continent. They had married in Ripon's registry office rather than in a church setting, feeling that it was more 'them', and because of that Anna had decided to forego the whole big, white wedding. John too had felt that she should do it properly and live out her dream, but she had told him that she would rather marry the right man in a simple setting than have a huge, elaborate wedding to disguise the fact that she was marrying the wrong one. She would never wear her wedding dress again, and didn't really see the point in it. So she went out and bought herself a pretty new dress instead, one smart enough for a wedding ceremony and also one that could be reused with those happy memories attached.

"I like it," she said firmly. "Besides, it's a done deal now."

"Oh, don't listen to her, Anna," said Cat. "You look knockout. It suits the occasion perfectly. Just wait until the wedding pictures come back to you. Mum'll have it pride of place."

"Really, Catherine," Mum said reprovingly, then softened. "Anyway, the dress is by-the-by. What matters is the ceremony, and it really was perfect. It was clear to see that the two of you are so in love with each other, and that's the most important thing at the end of the day. I always wanted you to settle down with someone who would treat you like a queen, but John goes even beyond that. He absolutely worships you, I can see that. And there's nothing more that I can really ask for. I know I wasn't really taken with him when we first met, but I don't mind swallowing my pride and apologising when I know that I'm in the wrong. And I _was_ wrong. I just hope that John feels like he is a part of this family."

"Of course he does," said Anna. "He was much more understanding than I was when I brought him over for Cat's wedding."

"And just think, you weren't even dating each other then," Cat sniggered. "Absolutely priceless. But it shows you just how much he fancied you if he was prepared to walk into the lion's den for no reason."

"You make us sound like monsters," Mum sniffed. "We weren't that bad."

"Oh, believe me, you were," Anna grinned. "But anyway, let's not dwell on that today. What matters is the here and now. Thank you for being here and supporting us. I know it wasn't the big wedding you wanted for me, but this suits us. We just want to be here surrounded by the people who we love the most."

"Oh, darling," sniffed Mum.

"Hell," said Cat. "If she's like this on your wedding day, what will she be like when she becomes a grandma?"

From across the room, Anna caught John's eye. He was locked in an adorable moment with his own mother, who was busy fussing over his tie and collar, stretching up on her stout legs to just about reach him. He had the pained look of a resigned son, and she couldn't help but smile at it. He really was so lovely, putting up with his mother's fussing without a single complaint. She jerked her head, and he nodded, instantly knowing what she wanted. He said something to his mother and together they started to make their way over. Margaret Bates had been having a bit of trouble with her health lately, and Anna knew that John was worried about her, but she looked lovely today, in a smart new outfit especially for the occasion. And today was sure to give her a boost. She had often said that she hadn't thought she'd live to see the day where her son was happy again, and Anna was an angel in disguise. Anna wasn't sure about that, but she was glad that she had brought some semblance of peace to her. She had been so worried on that morning when John had gone to tell her what had transpired on their trip, frightened that Margaret wouldn't really be pleased by the developments. John had laughed at her—after all, he had said, what mother _wouldn't_ want a woman like Anna for her son? Especially when she already liked her so much?—but it had still been a huge weight form her shoulders when Margaret had muttered, _"About bloody time, son,"_ when he had first brought her round to introduce her as his girlfriend.

"Anna, dear," said Margaret now, embracing her. "You look absolutely stunning. How my Johnny managed to catch your eye, I'll never know."

"Thanks, Mother," said John, rolling his eyes. "Keep talking like that, and you might give her reasons to divorce me."

"Oh, I don't think she could ever do that, John," said Mum. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to her. I couldn't wish for a better son-in-law."

"What about me?" said Tim, but he was grinning. "Excellent ceremony, John. I will finally have an ally in my ongoing battles with the Smith girls. I have certainly met my match."

"You wouldn't have it any other way," said Cat, sneaking under his arm.

Smiling, Anna reached out for her own husband. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. She squeezed his side.

"Before we get too carried away," she said, "we do have a little announcement to make."

"What's that, then?" said Margaret.

Anna turned to look at her own mum. "Well, you know what Cat's been saying about what you'll be like when you become a grandmother…?"

Mum looked nonplussed for a moment, but realisation dawned on Cat's face, and she emitted an ear-splitting shriek.

"You're not…!" she yelled.

"I am," said Anna, beaming and squeezing John even tighter. It was still so surreal to think about.

"But…but that's amazing! And scary! Christ!"

"Will you two please stop talking in code?" said Mum crossly.

Anna laughed. "Mum, Margaret…you're going to be grandmas."

Stupefied silence met her words for a moment. And then the two women yelped together.

"What are you—"

"Is it true—"

"When—"

John chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. "See? I'm not the only one to be absolutely gobsmacked."

"Yes, but you were asking how it happened. If you need that explaining to you after all this time…"

"Um, family present," said Cat, pulling a face. "I can guarantee that no one wants to know the intimate details of your kinky sex life." Hypocrite, Anna thought fondly.

"You'll have to excuse my youngest," said Mum loudly. "She's never been known for her tact."

But Margaret was chuckling. "Ah, lassie, believe me, there are things I could tell you about these two that would turn that pretty hair of yours white…"

"Mother!" John groaned. "Can we please leave that subject to one side?"

"Yes, let's," Anna agreed. "You're supposed to be focusing on the fact that we've just told you that you're going to have a grandbaby!"

Mum grabbed on to the subject more than a little gratefully, it seemed. "It _is_ fantastic news. Congratulations, both of you. Oh, I can't believe it! I never expected it to happen so soon. I thought it might have been another year or so…"

"It wasn't exactly planned like this," Anna admitted. "We only stopped using birth control a couple of months ago. The doctor told us that it might take a bit of time before things settled down enough for me to fall pregnant, so we thought we might have had a bit of time. Apparently not. It must have happened nearly straight away. I think it's quite nice that we were all here together to share in this day." Without even thinking about it, her left hand slid down to cradle her stomach. She kept catching herself doing that at random moments throughout the day, as if checking that her baby was really there, though of course there were no outward signs of it yet. She didn't even know what they were having, whether it was a little girl for John to fuss over, or a perfect little boy. They hadn't even discussed whether they wanted to find out.

"And we thought the sooner that we got started on having a family, the better," said John sardonically. "I'm not getting any younger, after all."

Anna shot him an admonishing look, but before she could open her mouth to remind him that _she_ wasn't getting any younger, either, she was beaten to it by Mum.

"Age is but a number," she said. "I know you'll make a wonderful father to my grandchildren."

"Steady on, Mum," Cat laughed. "Anna hasn't even popped the first one out yet."

"But a few grandbabies would be lovely," said Margaret. "I never thought I'd see the day when my boy settled down and had a family of his own, especially not with a woman as wonderful as your Anna."

"And your John has made Anna happier than I could say. He has been a wonderful addition to our family."

Anna glowed at the praise on John's behalf. It meant so much to her that John had been accepted into the family fold, that although it had been a rocky start in France, Mum and Cat had seen the man that he was and had realised that she wouldn't find a better one.

In the days following her own conversation with Mum, when she had admitted to the fact that John had not actually been her boyfriend in the beginning but she was committed to being with him after, John had taken Mum's number and contacted her himself. He had never told her the full details of what had been discussed in that conversation, but he had laid all of his cards on the table—prison and alcoholism and the ugly truth of Vera—and let her know the worst of him so that she could move on to see the best of him. His honesty must have paid off, for whenever they had been in contact since, Mum had always warmly enquired after him, and he had travelled over to France with her every time she had visited, as well as being heavily involved in Mum's visits over to them. He had always wanted to belong in her little clan, as she had in his, and now they were finally joined together for ever. She couldn't be happier about it.

"Just think," said Cat in awe, "in less than a year I'm going to be an auntie. A _cool_ auntie. The kid's going to love coming to visit cool Auntie Cat and Uncle Tim."

"You'd better not go around teaching them to swear in French, or I'll be cross," Anna warned, though she couldn't hide her smile.

"As if I'd ever do that," said Cat, looking affronted, which Anna knew was a ruse because it was _exactly_ the kind of thing she would do. "I can teach them about cool French fashion."

"I think Aunt Mary will have the fashion side covered," John chuckled, glancing over there now, to where Mary looked regal in a bold dress by an up-and-coming designer.

Cat harrumphed. It always amused Anna to see what fierce competition the two of them were always locked in—even to this day they still argued about who was truly responsible for her hooking up with John. Mary claimed that her ingenuity in making them share a room, and purchasing the condoms that got used on the trip made her the clear winner, having nudged them in the right direction like a master puppeteer. Cat claimed that _she_ was the real winner—if she had not told Anna that she had to bring a date with her, then she and John would still have been pining after one another.

Anna let them fight it out between themselves. They probably were both right on some level, but she preferred to think that they would have got there on their own. Eventually. Probably. Maybe. She tugged John closer, and his hand slipped down to join hers on her stomach. Yes, they _would_ have done. If she'd had to grab him by the bloody lapels and kiss him senseless herself.

It had been a long, unpredictable path to get where they were today, but Anna wouldn't change a single second of it for anything in the world. A happy life together. A family that loved them. And a family of their own to build and love.

They had a very bright future ahead of them.


End file.
